


Founder Archives - Volume 3

by GreatLordFazzie



Category: RWBY
Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, RWBY - Freeform, RWBY OC - Freeform, Silver Eyes, founder archives, rwby fanfic, rwby founder archives, rwby original character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29342151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreatLordFazzie/pseuds/GreatLordFazzie
Summary: Generations ago, it was the knight Eleanor who cradled mankind at their weakest from Grimm. Yet, her coven's betrayal is foretold to return humanity their graves, at the waters of twilight. Thus, Eleanor travels alone as one, vengeance in her heart for all the Delphics had done.





	1. The Plight of an Eidolon

**Author's Note:**

> The Founder Archives are available to read on Fanfiction.net as well, under the same name. Also, they are available on the Official Founder Archives website, FounderArchives.com.

_Entry 1: The Plight of an Eidolon_

“Are we dealing with a simple invasion, or is there something bigger at stake?” Diana asked. 

_“You’re_ not dealing with anything. You’ll be safe, behind me.” Eos answered through the holes in her mask, chuckling. A _black vulture_ flapped its way into the speeding carriage, before mutely cawing something to her. “Did Sister Artemis send you? …Yes, I see. Sister Artemis is already there. The walls of the incoming city haven’t been bypassed, _yet._ And so far, there’s been zero sign of aerial Grimm.” 

“Unfortunate. I was hoping we’d take the fight to the skies, away from the people.” Eleanor said. 

“Besides the three of us and Sister Artemis, everyone is either late or occupied across Remnant with their own Grimm raid.” 

“W-Will they arrive soon?” Diana shivered at the lack of reinforcements. 

_“You’ll be fine!”_ Somebody from the front of the freight whooped while whipping the horses to speed up. **“Clotho’s Coven** has never once lost a fight! Least, that’s what I’ve been told. I just can’t believe I got a chance to meet some of them! It’s not every day a humble merchant gets the opportunity to ferry the warriors whose glory is rumored high and low!” 

“Lady Clotho thanks you. What’s your name, anyway?” Eleanor turned. 

“That would be _Troy!_ Did I mention what an honor it is to meet you three?” The chariot surged forward, the dirt path uncharitably forming into a rocky road. Behind them, the sun followed from the horizon. But ahead, past the smoke of a village beset by darkness, the sky was still downcast. “Whup! Sorry for that bump!” 

“Do you have the weapon?” Eos questioned Diana. In response, she struggled to lift a golden great sword strapped to her back. “I know, it’s cumbersome. But she really is something special. You’ll grow into it within a year. I’m sure of it.” 

“Th-That’s the same thing you said _last_ year. Whether or not I get the hang of it soon, you don’t expect me to actually use it now, right? I-I don’t think I’m ready.” 

“Not at all. But as _Bearer of **Tormentyst,**_ it is forever yours to command. You’ll have to grow accustomed to its presence. In time, you’ll be attuned with its nature.” 

“We’re here.” Eleanor declared, gesturing to Diana. “Stay behind Sister Eos. She’ll tell you _what_ to do, and _when!”_

“Hey! Save some for me, ladies!” Troy hopped down to see them charge past the gates of this besieged capital with brutish abandon. The horrible creatures responsible for their arrival weren’t satisfied with just crumbling the ageless architecture, wildly obsessed with finishing off what remained of the scorned population. Too many had died already. 

_“Do not spare a single Grimm.”_ Eos commanded. Not needed. Eleanor sliced through the hordes without mercy, using a more traditional blade that was easily stained. From westward, an arrow sailed past her to stop the incursion of a Beowolf and the pack it led, each of them fizzling into dust by the time the attack had concluded. That one arrow stopped ten Grimm. 

“Sister Artemis!” Eleanor called to the distant bell tower. 

“Aye!” A figure waved, cupping her hands. 

“What do you see?” 

After a swarm of vultures perched on the bow of Artemis, prepped to report the spoils of a birds’ eye view, they found their answer. “There are more approaching over the mountain! Open the gates, and prepare a pyre!” 

Eleanor understood. She’d permit entry, then fortify that lapse with smoldering flames. The Grimm could never neglect a break in the town’s defenses, even if it meant stampeding each other through a moat of raking hot coals nurtured to kill. And kill, they did. But while that worked splendidly, opposite the farce, Eos was forced to take more drastic measures outside the village walls. 

“I know you have a _tad_ more experience than me, but I think it’s safe to say we may need those other Coven members you mentioned earlier.” Troy was forced to join Diana behind Eos, whose incredible height and constitution saved all for the time being. 

“We can take the Grimm no problem. It’s not us I’m worried about. This place can’t be saved, there’s just too much strife. Follow me.” Eos ran to the idol that acted as a crow’s nest for Artemis. In the main hall, the townspeople cowered even if relieved to see another fabled devotee. She held Diana by the shoulder. “Go upstairs to Sister Artemis. Tell her I’m taking the citizens far away. _She_ will protect you.” 

“And what of me? I’ll accompany you.” Eleanor insisted. “Sister Artemis won’t fail if she only needs to protect one of us, and not an army of humans.” 

“W-What about me?” Diana opened her arms for her own hug. She was not disappointed even as, several stories above, Artemis sent scores of Beowolves to the depths, forming a deadly aura whereupon any who entered received a speeding, pointy welcome. She wasn’t alone _anymore._ “Hey! I was told to stay with you. The others are evacuating the city.” 

“Smart.” Artemis said. “It’s been awhile, but let us continue your training. A real attack is the best time to practice. You’ll remember your lesson better.” 

The population was smothered into a caravan, everyone hoping to take advantage of the lapse in Grimm. _“Thank you, oh brave saints!”_ One of the rescued chanted, drawing a positive murmur from the rest. Troy paid them no notice, and cut between the celebrated warriors of Eos and Eleanor. 

“So, err, I guess this is where we part ways?” 

“Actually, we could still use your help.” Eleanor stopped him. “If you would lead the march, then we could keep watch from behind. We’re going to one of the **Nomadic Outposts** nearby, right here.” 

Troy studied the map, readying the horses. “Sure thing. But what’s a _Nomadic Outpost?”_

“Settlements the Coven constructed long ago. They serve as resting grounds for anyone that’s been exiled from their home. Nobody who goes in there stays long, so they’re pretty small- and that allows for extra fortifications fit to keep Grimm out.” 

“Gotcha. We’ll be there by midday.” He rolled his foreign dice, and raised a brow at the result. “I expect good things from this journey!” 

From the splintered city, they paced themselves well, the rumbling of another horrific swarm providing fine motivation. The concept that Artemis and Diana may fall was unfathomable, neither knight daring to even consider such an atrocity. Instead, they spoke of the _good._ The _righteous._

“So. How many did you kill back there?” Eleanor giggled. 

“I lost count, honestly. You should’ve _seen_ that outer wall. Half the time I was just ripping them down by the feet.” 

“What, they were _scaling_ the walls?” 

“I’m serious.” Eos wiped her polearm of blood and dirt. “Now, where were we before duty called? Oh, that’s right. _Armor.”_

“I already told you, your armor’s _fine._ You’re nigh untouchable anyway, there’s no need for any more. It’ll just make you slower. If you want to know the truth, I probably like your armor best of them all. I’d take it for a spin myself, if I wasn’t so small _.”_

“You’re not small.” Eos said. “I’m just _huge._ I guess I just can’t help myself. Ha.” Eos said. 

“Don’t beat yourself up. Good armor is hard to come by! If only our enemies were as rare.” Eleanor stopped and whistled, garnering everyone’s attention. “Wait here, please! The two of us will scout ahead for a moment, to check for Grimm. We’ll be right back in mere minutes, if that.” 

What they found was a canyon home to a bridge. Perilous for sure, but if that was all, then the mission might yet be trivial. Upon returning to the convoy, Eos was first to turn the corner. She stopped dead in her tracks, covered Eleanor’s mouth, and pulled them both behind cover. In that small window, she spotted two wretched hellions, each saddled upon a shriveled steed- their literal bony appearance contained within flowing, tattered robes. This sight was sufficient to bring panic. “Don’t make a sound. There are two _Eidolons_ out there.” 

Eleanor’s body language stiffened. Her voice implied alarm. _“The Black Horsemen!?_ What were they doing?” 

“Holding a picture of someone to Troy.” She was right. The scrawled portrait was accurate too, showcasing Artemis. The Eidolons must’ve sought the members of the Coven, and though they couldn’t speak, Troy understood their desires. Their black physique almost forced an answer, everyone terrified at the presence of towering **skeletons,** their skin stripped bare for all to see. 

“We need to help them.” Eleanor already knew she was wrong, and Eos was ready to reel her in. 

“Don’t be so eager. Remember, their lust for humans are absent. So long as we remain hidden, nobody needs to die.” 

“Aha, err…” Troy nervously chuckled, his aggressors leaning in. _If_ they were Grimm, it was the first time he’d ever seen one negotiate. “I’ve never seen anyone who looks like _that.”_ In a haze, one of the specters pointed to the humans, causing them to cower. “Them? N-No, you’ve got it all wrong! They weren’t saved by that woman! I found them scrambling from a tribe of faunus!” 

One of the two Eidolons nodded to the other, and plucked a toddler from the crowd, to everyone’s horror. If there _were_ any Silver-Eyed heroes nearby, this bait would prove fruitful, as Eleanor feared this wasn’t even a bluff- after all, what was the harm in _one_ innocents’ blood to a _Grimm?_ They had to be stopped. 

Eos rushed one of them down, using what vacant sunlight available to her as cover, hoping to pike them both through the chest at the same time. The closest rider caught the shaft of her weapon in an instant, and launched her into the ground. The stone cracked, but Eos appeared unaffected. 

“Troy! Take them to the Nomadic Outpost!” Eleanor shouted. 

“Are you sure? Y-You won’t die here, right?” 

“Just do as I say.” He understood in full, and led a charge away from the ensuing battle. “Sister Eos? Should we use our **power?”**

“Don’t you recall last time? Or the time before _that?_ These unholy creatures hold dominion over an equally potent set of mystic arts. Unfortunately, we’ll have to get through this with our _acquired_ skills, not our _natural_ ones.” 

“Just making sure.” She narrowed both her eyes on the exposed bone holding their bodies together, then whispered in absolute. _“Well… To use that magic, they **will** need arms…”_

Within these infinite lowlands, the battled raged, fought in full by representatives hailing from a council of vassals commanded in silence by the gods. But none of that meant anything in the face of Grimm old enough to _learn,_ to _strategize,_ to _plan._ The Horsemen had scoured the lands, they could’ve rode _anywhere anytime,_ yet they chose to fight _here._

Eos and Eleanor were faring terribly. The height advantage, and mobility from tamed beasts couldn’t be overemphasized, as one of them used a razor sickle bolted atop a pole, and the other a chain whip. It served its purpose beautifully. The clash of these repurposed tools sent violent echoes past the waves of seas. 

It wasn’t until one of the Eidolon’s disarmed Eos with the metal chain links that the other speared her in the shoulder. Eleanor didn’t notice, for this was the opening she longed for. Finally, she managed to lodge her sword through the armpit of the closest equerry and pull, dislocating the arm and sending a spray of black liquid over her suit- a gift from the horse. At last, she beamed forward with her silver eyes, two streams of white energy plummeting into the Grimm, who couldn’t absorb the attack with only _one_ hand. Even the extra Eidolon _behind_ it was enveloped in an unbreakable mold of rock. It was a bittersweet victory. 

“Sister Eos? _Sister!”_ Eleanor scrambled to her side and held a hand to the wound, halting the flow of blood. “No! Please gods, no!” 

_“I-I’ll live. Don’t fret, please.”_ She coughed. “It’s been years since I took a hit like that. I-I guess I was right about needing that armor upgrade, huh?” 

“Thank his Majesty you’re alright. We can go find something sturdier together. But we cannot stay _here._ They’ll smash their way out, soon. This is our chance. We can make it to the Heart of the Coven before they even know we’re gone.” She was right, for when frozen by the primeval silver eyes, one was incapable of perceiving whatever time was spent captive until freed. 

Eos stood up on her own, only allowing Eleanor to drape a hand around her for show. “You know, for all the times we’ve ran away from one of these things, one day I’d like to finally **kill** one. Now, it’s _personal._ Ugh, what would I do without you? Your eyes always _were_ more powerful than mine. Ha.” 

“Don’t mention it. If that’s all that mattered, Diana would outclass us all.” Eleanor said. 

“Well, in a matter of speaking, she already has.” 

Back in the city, the invading numbers dwindled but never stopped completely, giving Artemis the perfect controlled environment to train Diana, even if the youngest of them dreaded the thought of working on the field. Artemis just wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

Struggling to hold Tormentyst steady, she managed to defeat a fair few considering the sword did most of the work. Though, she was nowhere near adept yet. From the distance, her temporary mentor would step in with arrows if the situation ever turned messy, or more than one Grimm advanced at a time. 

“That’s far enough.” She declared, shooting the last assailant before landing in front of Diana. “You did well. Your form has improved over the last many moons, but you’re still relying too much on Tormentyst. I know it severs anything it touches without effort, but it’s a long road to a skilled swordswoman if you _abuse_ that.” 

“…” Diana dropped her possession, her arms aching. “It’s too much. Why do I have to use this stupid sword? A-Aren’t I the youngest? It’s far better utilized by _anyone_ else.” 

Artemis _considered_ discipline of such hubris, but instead crossed her arms. “…You’re lucky! Not many can get away with such rejection of Lady Clotho’s gifts. The sword is special, and is only reserved for the most gifted. That means _you._ It took us all many years to gain a mastery over it. I know you feel you’ve been at this for too long, but with time, you’ll gain control. That’s a Sister’s promise. _I’ll_ guide you. We all will.” 

Another messenger landed on Artemis’ shoulder, informing her of the recent events plaguing the northern trail. “…I see. We’re finished here.” 

_“What?”_

“Eleanor and Eos went head-to-head with two Eidolons. There could be more nearby. Or their _captain._ You’ve never fought one, and I’m quite content to keep it that way.” 

“W-Who is the Captain, anyway?” Diana asked, impulsively checking her surroundings in a fit of fear and paranoia. 

“Have you been keeping up with your studies? Follow my example. I’ve only just started the tablets left by Lady Clotho. Those come after the ancient tomes from the Arbiter. What about you?” 

_“Seventh_ Generation.” 

“Ah, that explains it!” Artemis laughed, pointing upward. “A pop quiz, then! How do we navigate our way back to the keep?” 

“It’s… the constellations, right? Don’t some of them point the way at certain times of the month?” Diana dragged Tormentyst over and used it to lean on, looking to the skies. “Maybe we follow the pattern of _Sir Kyradin Bael?”_

“I only wish so charitable an ally was the answer. Look further east, where the sun rises. _The Caliph of Dusk and Dawn, **Odynavus,** _is the key.” 

“My apologies, Sister Artemis.” 

“Not an issue. Just keep hitting those books.” As they followed the directions of the cadaverous Odynavus mural far above, Artemis thought it best to back up and answer the original question. “Now, the Captain of the Eidolons is called that for a reason. They are the nightmarish crew of the ship _‘Falsus Heredis’,_ commanded by an unseen warrior in secret. Not yet has anyone identified whatever _abomination_ would take such pleasure in ordering the Black Horsemen. Back in the day, rumor was, they were called _‘Aku.’_ Anyone who’s encountered the ship has never survived to confirm, though.” 

“S-So you’ve never _fought_ the Captain?” 

“No one in the Coven has. Long ago, when it plagued the waters for years, we must’ve been lucky in missing it. And after that, the _vessel_ disappeared. It’s been lifetimes since the _Falsus Heredis_ has been spotted on the high seas. Most think it’s been retired, Aku still waiting somewhere, sending their _dogs_ to hunt as a twisted pastime.” 

Diana again shivered at the thought. “Y-You’re just messing with me, right? Why is Kingdom Lore so scary?” 

“Haha. You’ll be fine. Nothing’s going to happen to you. Enough talk of the past. Are there any signal fires to indicate another invasion in the present?” 

They saw nothing but the pattern of stars that substituted a guide. That trend continued for nearly an hour, until they’d stopped at an inexplicable shrine cut into the side of a mountain, held to a jungle by one lone rickety bridge. “I’m thankful we didn’t have to stray too far from here.” Diana sighed. 

“One last test. Reveal the gates.” 

“But can’t you? I’ve already-“ Diana stopped herself, already sensing a strict refusal. “Okay, fine. Here, take this.” She handed away her antique sword, took a deep breath, and lifted the metal veil bolted over her face with several clasps and locks. 

“Wait. Let me help you.” Artemis laid a hand on each shoulder. “Close your eyes. Focus on dulling your senses. Remember your training. Relax your body, and hold _onto_ this feeling.” Her voice became soft. “Isolate yourself from the _world._ Yes, _perfect._ Now, slowly, open your eyes.” 

None of this was done to produce a surge from Diana. That could’ve been done easily enough. Anytime her silver eyes were exposed, no longer confined by the specially made helmet, she could hardly _stop_ herself from bringing forth a dire stream of omnipotent vigor. Grimm and man alike were obliterated in an instant. She had to control it. _Restrain it._

With some help, she managed to produce _only_ a laser-like beam. Immediately, Artemis strapped the mask back in place and Dianna allowed the incredible stream of annihilation to pour into her enchanted visor again. “Thank you, Sister Artemis.” Using this power, the solid wall ahead shimmered and riveted, the very platform upon which they stood spinning to take them into the sheer hillside. 

Within the Heart of the Coven, past another bridge, they came upon a mirage. This shimmering wall made the other side appear as though it were underwater, subject to rippling. But once they’d slipped through, the view was clear. Inside Remnant rested a golden temple, the architect of which lavished the halls with sizable diners, forums, and chapels- each corner illuminated by a stained glass window, light streaming in despite the castle’s position within a mountain. No expense was spared. It would’ve been easy for the carefully vetted inhabitants to find themselves lost if they weren’t so experienced. 

“Sisters! I received your message. You’re not hurt, are you?” Artemis rushed over at the sight of the two who’d split up to begin with. 

“Thankfully not.” Eos stood up, apparently accustomed to walking off injuries any ordinary human would find fatal. But that seemed to be a trend among them all. 

“Which Eidolons were they? Did you kill one?” 

Eleanor answered. “There were two. The first mate with the Scythe, and its Quartermaster. We couldn’t stop them. It was standard procedure.” 

“Where are they, now?” 

_“Far_ from here. They could’ve escaped by this point, but I’m doubtful we were followed. Not that it matters, now.” She kneeled down and interlocked her fingers, murmuring in hush tones. _“I revere our goddess, Lady Clotho, for the blessings bestowed upon our shelter. Thank you, for masking our presence from enemies within these walls, and ensuring our safety on the journey ahead. Inculto.”_

_“Inculto.”_ Artemis repeated, the one-word poem recited by the rest thereafter. _“For it is through our allegiance that Remnant may rest, undying._ We’ll have to lay low. Work further beyond the outer rings of the valley, and erase whatever pattern the Eidolons think they discovered.” 

Eos lumbered to her private garden. “As always. I’ll get to work on masking our scent with fumes. Which do you want? _Alyssum, Jasmine,_ or _Lavender?”_

“How about _Amaryllises?”_ Diana piped up. 

“Are you secretly a descendant of Lady Hestia?” Eos joked, audibly proud of her own joke. 

“Ha! I love your flowers this season, by the way. They’re almost as tall as you.” 

“Then they’re not tall enough. ‘Tis a shame I must sacrifice them to make something as conceited as perfume. Why so vain, Sister Artemis?” 

“You must be jesting! It is purely for our _safety._ Turn back time and become the first member, _then_ we’ll talk.” 

“Heehee!” Diana couldn’t help herself. 

“…Thank you for laughing. Be sure to finish your readings tonight. As for you two, after we dine in the banquet, I suspect you’ll join me for prayer?” All she received were nods. “Excellent. I’ll see you all at supper.” Artemis gave her companions a group hug, then retreated deeper into the stronghold. 

“Should we help her?” Eleanor questioned Diana. 

“Just one thing, first. I did have one question about the next library’s lore, if you don’t mind. I know I can’t read ahead, but it seemed important given today’s events. How come the Eidolons are becoming more frequent? When I was first found by you, I didn’t even know they existed. Then, ever since that changed a few years later, it’s like they’re getting smarter.” 

“Well… For the sake of your safety, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to spoil _some_ secrets, given the circumstances.” 

“No.” Eos stopped her. “She’s not ready. Just as all of us had, she should learn Kingdom Lore in its intended chronology. Those were the orders from above.” 

“…She’s right. You are to follow the path set before you by Lady Clotho.” 

Diana nodded. “I… I understand. My apologies.” 

“If you’d want, I can tutor you tonight. The Seventh Generation is one of my favorites.” 

“I’d like that very much.” 

“Allow me some fresh air, then, and I’ll meet you in your quarters.” Eleanor opened the main gates to see a pair of cavaliers approaching, both somewhat out of breath but satisfied with the work they’d presumably accomplished. “Oh! Thank the gods you two are okay! Come, quick. I think Artemis is planning to cook up some pheasant!” 

“Wow.” One of them, _Mania,_ looked her up and down, witnessing how Eleanor’s armor was still caked with black blood and grime. “Finally, an outfit worth wearing! About time.” 

“Shut up.” Eleanor laughed. 

“Woah. What happened to _you?”_ **Styx** followed suit. 

“Ha. I promise I’ll tell you _all_ about it after dinner.” 

By sundown that same day, the paralyzed Eidolons had busted free of the spell by a _third_ rider of similar appearance. Stone flung in every direction. The now free Grimm snapped a still convulsing arm into its socket, then pulled the last ally out of _their_ coffin itself. A series of silent sneers later, and each of the three cracked their horses forward, in separate directions. 

Entry No. 1 complete. 

This entry may be finished, but the Archive is not. 


	2. Severing the Hand that Feeds You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mortals are often ungrateful for the sacrifices made, taking them for granted, casting them aside out of ignorance, or perhaps malevolence. But they are still deserving of mercy, no matter the cost, regardless of how many times they sever the hand that feeds them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Founder Archives are available to read on Fanfiction.net as well, under the same name. Also, they are available on the Official Founder Archives website, FounderArchives.com.

_Entry 2: Severing the Hand that Feeds You_

Alone, witness to the dark, saved only by a flickering lamp, Diana looked at the pages in boredom. This book, the stack before it, and the mountain awaiting afterward had all been penned by one known as _‘Herald the VIII’._ She _still_ hadn’t quite grasped who that was, and how he was different from the last several Heralds, only able to groan out the words, another binge of archaic textbooks and transcripts taking a thorough toll. And her reward? _Another_ chapter. 

_“I’ve just realized something!”_ She recited the text out loud verbatim, hoping to garner _some_ level of understanding. _“The Old Arts have not failed me. They’ve **never** failed me. For failure is the purpose. The goal! Too often are we concerned with the beginning and the end, that we’ve never stopped and considered the middle. _ …” She finally cut the act, and gave up. “What does that mean!?” 

“It means you’re _winning._ If you’re not enjoying it, you’re doing it right.” Eleanor entered her chambers. 

“So the destination is only worth it if the journey sucks? Is that why _‘Herald the VIII’_ made this book insufferable to read?” 

_“Exactly!”_ There was a pause, and they both broke out laughing. “Good morning, Sister Diana. I brought breakfast. Take a break.” She handed over a bowl of soup and, to Diana’s embarrassment, briskly scooped up a nearby miniature wolf occupying an entire seat despite its small size. “How’s _Mister Wiggles_ doing? Aren’t you a little old for stuffed animals?” 

“…I’m not a thousand years old, yet. Remember? Time doesn’t fly for me like it does you. I’d like to enjoy my youth while I still can.” 

“Are you calling me old? And it’s a little more than a _thousand,_ actually.” 

“I’ll get there, eventually.” Diana yawned. “Just eight more years. I mean, it can’t be as long as the last seventeen, right?” 

“Here’s hoping. I’m more impressed that you remember the date of the _Soulcess._ That’s the mark of a good student, and even _better_ teachers. Heh! And you’re right, that’ll come closer than you think. And then, you get a drink of the-” 

**“The Forgotten Tears,** I know. You’ve all told me, like ten-thousand times.” She yawned again. “When’s the new moon?” 

From the darkness, past the ornate shelves of this cramped cabin deep within the Heart of the Coven, a figure leapt from the ceiling. “Not for another half-month. I know you’re tired- but _that’ll_ be solved by the Tears, too.” 

“Oh! Y-You scared me…” 

Eleanor set a hand on Styx’s back. “Any Grimm sightings?” 

“No. Well, _besides_ the ones I already stabbed for pleasure. They never even _saw_ me. Their muted screams were _breathtaking.”_

“…I think you’ve been spending a bit too much time with Sister Mania.” 

“Well, you should’ve seen **her!** She’s been edging onto _my_ territory.” Styx twirled an ornate knife in one hand. “The other day, I saw her _backstab_ a Beowolf. So to show her, the next Grimm we killed together, instead of the usual, I tramped her style. No sneaking to speak of, I just _rushed_ the thing. And when it was down, I stomped it repeatedly!” 

“Congratulations?” 

“It was pretty fun, to be honest. Now I see why Sister Mania prefers such brutality over the grace of stealth. That said, I think I’ll just stick to the shadows. But don’t worry, I’m not going soft on you-” 

“Nobody thought you had.” Eleanor joked. 

“-I still hate the Grimm the _most._ That title stays right here, where it belongs.” 

Somebody knocked on the door, then entered without any response. Eos had to slouch just to keep from hitting the doorframe. “I heard the words _‘kill’_ and _‘Grimm’_ in the same sentence and came here as fast as I could.” 

Diana sat up and stretched, her bowl now empty. “…Did everyone just decide to invite themselves into my room, or what?” 

“Just dropping by to see how you’re all doing. Oh, and to tell you that this little birdie had a message for Sister Artemis.” She held forward her hand, a bird balanced on her finger. “But since she’s out on a morning hunt, the task falls to us.” 

“Well?” Eleanor said. “What did the vulture tell you?” 

“Sister Mania is in trouble. _Don’t panic,_ it’s not the Grimm. She and one other are pinned down in a village many roads from here, under fire from a bandit tribe.” 

“She’ll be okay, right?” Diana looked away. 

“Certainly. The bad pack of humans will fail in their pursuit, as they always have. But that malice _could_ bring Grimm, eventually.” 

“Who was with her?” Eleanor asked. 

Eos paused. _“…Abigor.”_

“Are you kidding? We’ll have to move fast.” She began a sprint out of the Heart of the Coven, only to be abruptly stopped by the bearer of bad news. 

“Try not to let your attachment with him cloud your judgment, Sister. Whatever happens to his kind, if it doesn’t concern Grimm, is to be met with zero action on our part.” 

“…I understand.” She resumed her hasty departure while the rest prepared together. 

“You know she’d save Abigor even if there _weren’t_ Grimm.” Styx nudged Eos’ shoulder. 

“You’re right. But there _might_ be, and that’s her saving grace. And when it’s all said and done, there’s a valuable difference between fighting, and _negotiating._ Eleanor would never harm a human soul. At the most, she’d whisk Abigor away to safety, diffusing the conflict. And that _doesn’t_ violate our creed.” 

“Still, she’s interfering, and she’d do it regardless of the Grimm.” 

“I trust her, though. She’s never given me any inclination otherwise, and this wouldn’t be the first, or _hundredth_ time she’s put others above herself _.”_

Styx chuckled. “Not that Abigor nor Mania need it. It’s always cute, how she breaks into a panic whenever the **‘High Officer of the Seventh Brigade’** _might_ be in trouble.” With the way she spoke, it was clear she was mocking the title. 

Through the complex, under the vivid gaze of stained-glass windows, all but Diana rushed outside. “I-I guess I’ll stay here?” She called out, watching them tear past the rippling barrier, entry-shrine, and bridge without a response. Not that it mattered. She knew the answer, and with a sigh, she returned to her studies. 

“Aha! So, this is it, huh?” Troy patted himself on the back, having witnessed everything. 

“You?” _This_ was enough to make Eleanor pause. “You followed us? How long have you been standing in the bushes?” 

“Not long, if we’re being honest. Tricks of the trade, as it would seem! I set up my store here, and **waited.** Aha. I guess you expected something grander, huh? I can’t carry this shop on my back, and _believe me,_ if I could phase it in and out of existence, I would. Not everyone’s got magic.” 

“Only six of us. Well, _seven,_ if you count Herald.” 

“Who?” 

Styx finally broke the distance, though she wasn’t alone. “How about you introduce _yourself,_ first?” 

“Name’s Troy! Always a pleasure to garner new customers. And let me say, it’s an honor to meet another patron of that temple over there.” 

“What? You saw us leave the Shrine? Then, you must be silenced.” 

“B-But I thought I’d be safe from _you_ ladies, of all people!” 

“We can’t hurt you.” Styx laughed. “We just have to silence you. Take away some memories. We’d need Tormentyst, but… There’s no time. C’mon, we’ll have to keep a silver eye on you until we return. Try to keep yourself hidden, like me.” 

“S-Sure! Another adventure. But first, where are we going?” 

“There.” In an indiscriminately unhelpful display, she held forth a finger to the fog’s base, past the mountains. 

“Ah, then you came to the right place!” Troy said. 

Eos interrupted this time. _“You_ came to _our_ house.” 

“…Then _I_ came to the right place. Oh, the stories I’ll tell! I’ll be famous, as the ferryman for the Coven! Come, quick!” He hopped back onto his carriage and prepped the ropes, his horses pattering the ground in anticipation. “I can take you where you need to be… _For a fee,_ of course.” 

“What? You want payment? Lives are at stake.” 

“Fine, fine. Last time was on the house. This time, I’ll give you a discount. How’s that?” Troy’s resolution brought pause, but Eos was right. Their duties surpassed the impulse of greed. 

“It’ll have to do. Move quickly.” Eleanor rushed into the cart with the others, giving Troy the signal to proceed. Yet, they did _not_ ride in silence. 

“So, what’s the deal? You seem upset about something. This is just business as usual, right?” 

“Agreed.” Eleanor spoke for Eos, laying out the details of their newest mission in as brisk a matter as possible. “But there’s only one problem. These are _human_ enemies. That changes everything.” 

“How so?” 

“The directive of our master is older than tradition, and the stipulations are plentiful- though, they _can_ be summed up with a simple rule. Deal with Grimm. Witness everything else. You may think it’s enough to _just_ do our job, but here, going beyond violates law. Though it may sadden us to witness humanity destroy themselves, if _Grimm_ aren’t the cause, it’s none of our concern.” 

“Then why join the fight at all? If you’re not within bounds to play referee, watching from the stands could be a breeze.” 

“A coven member is _still_ in danger. And the discourse may bring something worse.” 

“Oh, lovely. So, then, what do you plan to do when we get there?” Troy wrangled the reins, making good ground. 

Styx, Eos, and Eleanor all looked at each other. “Last time we met, didn’t you mention something about fighting _yourself?”_

“We’re talking bandits? Sure! It might cost extra, though. Just make sure you hop off the chariot _ahead of time,_ lest you find yourself an accomplice. Wouldn’t want to anger Clotho, right?” 

_“Lady_ Clotho.” 

In short order, if things continued in this manner, they’d find their destination before the hands of death intervened. But that window was closing quickly. Through the volley of arrows, the clanking of swords, and the perimeter set by bucklers, those in need of rescue had no choice but to ride out the disarray for as long as it took. Mania could thank her lucky stars she held powerful friends _later._

_“This is treason. I serve the Coven!”_ She raised a hand, only to quickly lower it and cover her skull mask at the sound of arrows, not so much trembling as she was _controlling_ herself, back against a barricade of spiked walls. And to her side, the equally suited _Abigor_ didn’t fare any better. 

“We’ll need reinforcements! If only the _Brigade_ made haste.” His confidence flared. 

“What do we need _them_ for? Aren’t _you_ the ringleader? Get out there and teach the infidels the meaning of hubris. Silver eyes and combat expertise aren’t mutually exclusive.” 

“Ah, the _one-woman army_ needs a lesson in warfare. Didn’t Eleanor ever mention my teachings? For us pesky mortals, relying on ferocity as you have isn’t enough. Numbers are **everything.** I’d rather not defend a horde thirty-to-one. Not saying I _can’t,_ I’d just prefer better odds.” 

One of the barbarians encircling them threw another threat. _“Give us the silver eyes, and we’ll let the soldier go!”_

_“You aren’t running things.”_ Abigor sighed under his breath. “Okay. I take it you’ll stay here?” 

“What do _you_ think?” 

Abigor, for the sake of the innocent trapped in the carcass of this mostly barren town, left his protection to meet the bandits on the field of battle. The encroachers were deceived by his simple equipment and weaponry, but learned quickly the victories training and discipline offered over brutality alone. The question of whether his skill was fit to finish what had only just started couldn’t be determined, now. He was joined by the worst of all. 

An Ursa shattered through the cobblestone road, injuring enough bandits to bring Mania despair then and there. She had to act quickly to save more, and so she whisked past Abigor to put herself between the beast, and the men who sought her death. He never even saw her _move._

Mania was the most ruthless of them all. Every slice from her scythe was executed as though it would be her last, despite the absence of any _real_ threat. At least, no _visible_ one. As long as the Ursa still hung onto life, it would spread fear among everyone else, and bring more. It appeared such a pox couldn’t be prevented. 

“That’s enough.” Abigor pulled her away, halting further mutilation of the already lifeless Grimm. “The bandit’s cowardice has shown through. One less faction to consider. No use torturing what will fade with the clock’s ticking. The best move for us _now_ is to-” Another Ursa, reinforced with allies this time, arrived from beneath. 

Mania began a sprint, but froze at a **whistle.** Behind her, Troy’s freight sailed over the gates and impaled each and every fiend. “Sisters! About time we got some help!” She cheered. The rest of the villagers joined. 

Upon a peak in the distance, a watcher studied, diligently hoping for a sign of Tormentyst. _No such luck._ Even so, a good show was hard to come by. “Haha! I swear, Kalthus. If Clotho’s slaves weren’t so fun to watch, this would’ve been torture.” 

**_“It is strictly a business matter.”_** The words rang forth, unmistakably a result of an Oathkeeper, clad in bloody rags. **_“Do try and stay on task. I know you feel it’s been awhile since I issued this assignment, but persistence is a greatly sought after skill. If Clotho ever bestowed on her children knowledge of the Rhinestone, they’ll slip up. Time is on our side.”_ **

“I know, I know. They’re just so fascinating! Who’s your favorite? Is it the ditz with fifty pounds of armor? Or, let me guess! It’s that prissy miss with the _gorgeous_ sword, who can’t even use it.” 

**_“…Hm. These warriors have served the lands dutifully for many, many eras. A small amount of respect is due, Herald the XXI. The gods have a hard time forgetting hubris. Forgiveness? That’s a whole other matter.”_ **

“Aw, c’mon! You gotta admit, they’re entertaining…” Herald was first privy to the return of an essentially omnipotent force, just one of a small army, idly passing through the village. “But it’s about to get a lot _more_ entertaining. Look at _that!”_

**_“An Eidolon. Though the Coven is pertinent to our cause, their death is something I cannot risk. Quick, before we’re seen. They’ll need to focus, now.”_ **

With Herald’s leave, the celebration ended. 

“D-Do you hear that?” Styx turned slowly, dreading she wasn’t alone in catching the sound of clops. 

“No. I-I mean, yes. But this _cannot_ be. Arm yourselves.” Eos stood in front of the rest without hesitation, fully expecting what she received: a horse, directed by a blackened corpse. All the townspeople ran screaming. 

“A-Again!?” Troy nearly fell backwards. “How many of these things are there?” 

Short lived was their celebration, in the presence of an Eidolon. This was not either of the two that had transgressed last time, as made clear by the weapon choice: an _anchor._ This horseman must’ve been responsible for that instrument on the fabled ship _Falsus Heredis._ In regards to whether or not it held a higher position, none knew, for now. 

“There’s _six._ Maybe.” Eleanor clarified as it casually approached, having spotted them. 

“Listen up.” Abigor scooped Troy back to his feet and led him, along with the rest of his squad, away. “We can’t be here. Clotho’s Coven performs better when we pesky _humans_ aren’t drawing their attention… Eleanor? You won’t let me help, will you?” 

_“As always, you are smart._ ” 

Verbally, Troy resisted the control of Abigor. “I thought they were supposed to be rare! Why are they just now plaguing the lands?” 

“It’s been awhile since I had to give someone the rundown. Let’s see if my memory’s still sharp. What you must realize is that they’re old. Oldest _I’ve_ ever seen, at least. But they’re not regular Grimm. They care nothing of human life, neither interested enough to take nor dismiss them. The Eidolons _long_ for the death of _Descendants._ Think Silver-Eyed Warriors.” 

He flinched, someone having inadvertently chucked a boulder in his direction, Mania currently forced to endure the meteoric impact as long as she gripped the scythe lodged into the rock. He continued nonetheless. “The longer they go without quenching that thirst for blood, the worse they get. The years were docile without them, till a few months ago, where I saw one myself for the first time. To have **three** attacks in so short a time… Until an Eidolon fulfills their purpose, they’ll never stop. And even then, they won’t stay dormant for long. So, as you can imagine, they bring with them some… _Cause for concern._ And _death.”_ Abigor settled himself in the seat parallel to Troy, at the head of the merchant’s wagon. 

“Good- _Great!_ I love death.” Troy shuddered. “I didn’t sign up for this.” 

“You did the moment you met _us.”_ He stopped, spotting one of his allies skid across the road into a building. Even if the other members were granted similar hospitality, he couldn’t let _her_ fate follow. “Eleanor! Are you hurt?” 

“D-Don’t worry about me! You have to get out of here. You’ve never fought one of these, because you’re still here. I can’t lose you. _Watch out!”_

“There is no lapse in my defense!” He hid behind a bulky shield that cast a wide shadow. At worst, it would break but still protect, if it was to indeed be used at all. The enemy charged, but fell for a distraction. 

“Hey! Yeah, I’m talking to _you!”_ Troy threw stone after stone, to little effect. A huge mistake. 

“Oh, you’re just asking for it, now.” Eos sighed, taking every incoming attack without uttering a sound. No matter what they tried, this Eidolon could not be approached. At the slightest movement, a violent reaction secured an untouchable dome. The options were clear. Someone needed to eliminate the cavalry, or sneak past the perimeter, unannounced. Styx could do _both._

Through her treachery, the horse’s hooves were sliced at the base. Though the Grimm would regenerate, in time, this was serviceable for the moment at hand. 

Each member circled, vigilant but eager to press this advantage. With its back to the sheer brink of a gulley, the Eidolon had no choice but to stay and fight. That would have happened either way. 

“All this, and for what? It’s not like we’re killing it today.” Abigor said. 

“You’re right. But we haven’t silenced their spell capable of reflecting our eyes. Can anyone think of any way to subdue it? Now would be a good time.” Styx backed away as the foe swung about, its mare caught in a berserk tantrum. 

“Oh, _come on._ You think too much. Just brute force the problem.” Mania stomped on the ground, recognizing how loose the dusty roadway settled. In the glint of orange sunlight, the Black Horseman tumbled out of view, lost to a deep, foggy trench. 

From the depths, the anchor that so cruelly doubled as a weapon returned, clasping onto a nearby lamp post. The fixture was almost torn from its foundations, but persisted. Each of the guardians stared, almost afraid to touch it. 

Troy coughed. “It’s not coming back, right?” In response, Eos left. 

“The beast is _far_ below us. This was just the first step of its return, but there are many more ahead. For now, we are safe. Evacuate this town.” 

“We cannot continue like this.” Eleanor sat cross-legged, exhausted. 

“We’ll figure something out.” Abigor joined her. “Just like last time. When these Grimm grow too agitated, their captain’s hand will be forced. Funny to think that instead of controlling them, Aku must _appease_ them. Either the Eidolons aren’t worth the trouble to fight, or they’re just too strong.” 

“Waiting as we did then is exactly what allowed Herald the **XVI** to fall at their hand, though. I… I still miss him.” 

“Except this time, we’re prepared. And hey, _I’m_ here now. I’d like to see what this so-called Aku is like, and get even just for you. That is, if Lady Clotho would allow me to, of course.” 

“Don’t be so foolish.” Mania stepped in-between, towering over both of them. “Nobody’s ever beaten Aku. Nary has a soul has ever _seen_ them. At least, no living soul. A _human_ could never break that streak.” 

“No. That’s why when the time comes, I’ll need you.” He and Eleanor shared a smile. 

In silence, another black vulture eyed them all, using the cover of clouds to keep its existence unknown, this instinct trained acutely by Artemis _just in case._ The animal melded with the mingle of clouds. And when it retired back in her cellar within the Heart of the Coven, it spied how she intently read a pile of bronze sheets inscribed with a message. 

“No… _No. **No!** Impossible!”_ Artemis shouted, slamming her hands on the desk and leaping to her feet. She had only spotted the bird after this outburst, still terrified at the content of the tablets. 

_“You… Vulture! Return whence you came! Bring each coven member here at once! Urgently!”_ It paused, then spoke to her. The events of the last few hours were discussed with every detail accounted for. _“No!”_ She gasped, clinging onto the vulture’s cawed whispers. “They _survived?_ Thank the gods.” 

“Is something the matter, Sister Artemis?” Diana crept through the doors.  


“…Yes. While we’ve been here, everyone else waged warfare with another Eidolon- _but,_ they survived. That’s not what worries me. We’ve got a much, much bigger problem _here.”_

“How so?” 

“It’s… These bronze tablets. I was told it was one of the last means to test knowledge of Kingdom Lore. This is intended as the final hurdle of research we are meant to undergo. The plan was that in time, you’ll be in the same position I’m in now. All of us will. And yet, while there is much to learn from these writings, the conclusions are dire… There is nothing here to suggest it’s to be saved for the _highest members_ of the Coven. Rather, the information held within is wicked.” 

“It can’t be that bad. What does it say?” 

“It is an ordination of the future. One of us will renounce the will of the gods, and betray the Coven. _This person goes by the second name **Xiasma,** when alone. _ They will forsake everything we stand for, and play a key role in Trajan’s return.” 

_“_ Y-You mean, this is serious?” 

_“Absolutely. **Vulture!** I told you to move! Tell everyone to reconvene in the cathedral, now!” _

“Someone among us is going to betray the cause? Do we know who? Everything’s going to be okay, right?” Diana had to run just to keep up with Artemis, who scooped the tablets into a burlap satchel and charged deeper into the parish. Soon, ornate chandeliers and golden windows were replaced with mossy stone that, if bestial, had at least been carved to the edge of perfection. The sound of dripping water persisted through everything. 

“I will reveal everything in full once we’re all together.” Artemis said. 

“But… It can’t be true, right? Maybe it’s a lie, from someone we can’t trust. Who wrote the tablets?” Diana gasped at the response. 

_“Lady Clotho.”_

Entry No. 2 complete. 

This entry may be finished, but the Archive is not. 


	3. Exaleth be the One who Rattles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The seeds of discord, planted by Clotho to begin with, may yet grow into a deadly beast. For betrayal is a feeling seldom felt by the Coven. Left untreated to fester, doubt is a dangerous enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Founder Archives are available to read on Fanfiction.net as well, under the same name. Also, they are available on the Official Founder Archives website, FounderArchives.com.

_Entry 3: Exaleth be the One who Rattles_

”Do you think I’m a _fool?”_ Mania asked. “I never thought you one to play games, Sister Artemis. To think, one of us would assist Trajan? It’s _laughable!”_

“She’s right, you know? Mania never laughs!” Styx said. 

“I’m sorry to say, you’ll find no games to be had here. Have a look for yourself.” Artemis threw the tablets down, scattering them across a table that had been carved to form a map of Remnant. 

_“Stop! Don’t look- I forbid it!”_ Mania commanded, ensuring herself and others did not violate the doctrine of knowledge, and skip ahead in their teachings. 

“It’s all there, if you don’t believe me. Lady Clotho wrote them, and you are correct, she withheld them till the end. For what reasons, I’m not sure. She has foretold the return of Trajan at our hands- one of us, to be precise. And their true name is Xiasma. There’s no reason to hide _that.”_

“It’s not your place to say.” 

“Then whose is it?” 

A long pause swept past. Each and every member stood silent within this atrium, all present but hopeless to find the words. 

“I won’t break the order. I can’t. When will this betrayal take place? _You_ tell _us.”_ Eleanor said. 

“…Long from today.” 

“Then I will worry about it **tomorrow.** My suggestion? You all do the same. It’s is a lot to take in, clearly, but it’s Lady Clotho’s plan. She must have some sort of end goal in mind. We just have to look deeper.” 

_“Inculto.”_ Artemis nodded. “We will discuss this another time. Until then, occupy yourselves with Grimm.” 

“So, do the usual thing we’ve done for centuries?” Styx stole a glance at Diana, who hid at the next comment. “That is, _most_ of us.” 

“Sh-She’s right.” Diana admitted. “But I still want to help in any way I can. I can lend one of you Tormentyst-” 

Artemis granted an ultimatum. “No. If you’d like to help, you can join me for prayer in the Cathedral, if you so wish. And what about _you?”_

“I’ll pass _this_ time. Should stretch a bit, you know?” Eleanor gave each of her friends a hug, then retreated with Eos, who’d been standing idle behind her the entire time, silent. Both turned in unison. With the slow but absolute dissipation of the crowd, the two found themselves isolated in a room marked by rows of seats, the golden walls serving as a battleground between lamps and paintings. __

“So… _That’s_ a thing that just happened.” Eleanor joked as she took a seat, detecting a hint of sarcasm in Eos’ response. 

“You find it _funny,_ I see.” 

“Well, it _is_ madness. There’s no chance a traitor can go unheard of. This isn’t a guild with hundreds of members, it’s a _sisterhood._ There’s only **six** of us. If any of you ever gave any reason for suspicion, we’d have seen it by now.” 

“Then we must ask.” Eos admitted. “Who’s Xiasma?” 

“…Okay. Let’s go through this one at a time. Neither you nor I are the traitor. Sister Artemis is the oldest among us, and if she was planning anything, she wouldn’t have told us. And Sister Styx has the greatest hatred for the Creatures of Grimm. Only two remain, but I doubt Sister _Diana_ would be capable of something like this, considering her age. Too innocent. She doesn’t even know who Trajan _is,_ does she?” 

_“But what about Sister Mania?_ There’s not a chance she’d ever come to the aid of our enemy. It’s out of the question.” 

“And… Each of us feels the same. I believe that.” Eleanor sighed, bringing her feet onto the bench. 

Mania opened the doors, her intentions clear. She had been waiting on the other side, listening in. “I think we get it. Nobody here fits the bill. _Who’s_ the traitor? None can say.” 

“Eavesdropping, huh?” Eleanor pointed. “Now _that’s_ something a traitor would do.” 

“Oh, please.” They migrated outside the walls of the temple. “This is trivial. There is but one way to resurrect Trajan- with his name said, it is clear. His _flames_ are the key. None of us know where they are. Whoever does is obfuscating the truth.” 

As soon as they left the near sightless barrier, the dynamic changed, as it often did when someone arrived unannounced. 

“Obfuscating the truth? I’m not obfuscating anything!” Troy declared. “Trust me, I haven't gone to the bathroom in days.” 

“…It’s not him.” Mania laughed. “He doesn’t have the wits to be a mastermind. Hold up. Take off those ridiculous glasses.” 

“Pretty sweet shades, huh? I could part with them, at a discount.” 

“Ah, perfect. No silver eyes. As such, he’s exempt from Lady Clotho’s prediction.” 

“I don’t know if you noticed, but he’s also _not a sister._ That’s sort of important.” Eleanor said. 

“Let me guess- that also means I’m exempt from your mythical clubhouse secrets, eh?” Troy nodded as though he understood any of this. “But I am a quick learner. I can piece it together, I’m sure of it. I mean, just look at that guy over there! He’s much slower than I, wouldn’t you say?” 

“Abigor!” Eleanor straightened her posture at his presence. Why are you here?” 

“Aha.” Mania pat her on the back. “Enjoy yourselves. I’ve got Grimm to butcher. I’ll bring back a souvenir!” 

“Eleanor.” Abigor set down a massive wheel barrow stocked with black pelts and horns. “I figured now would be a good time to bring in the spoils of the last few hunts. This isn’t a bad time, is it?” 

She and Eos exchanged a brief glance. “No. Everything’s fine.” 

“Ha. I taught the Seventh Brigade never to lie. You don’t spend eight years on the line without picking up-“ 

“Picking up some tricks, I _know.”_ She snorted. “We’ve happened upon something big.” 

Eos interrupted. “No. This is business as usual. There is nothing of note to discuss. Leave it at that.” 

“…What did I just say about lying?” 

“This time, we are tending matters beyond the concern of humans, as welcome…” She eyed Troy. “Or _unwelcome,_ as they may be.” 

“Huh. I know better than to push and pry against _you.”_ Abigor snorted. “But I’m a tad concerned. Have I not proved my loyalty? I mean, I could always leave now, if you’re too busy.” 

“N-No, stay! I-I mean, just in case anything happens.” Eleanor said, her face reddening under her helmet. 

“What could ever happen around here?” Troy said. 

_“Shut it!_ Or I’ll… I’ll turn you to stone!” 

“Oh.” He gasped, the start a grin smearing itself onto his face. “Everyone’s passed rumors of the six paladins sent for hire. _Higher **power,** that is._ Everyone loves you guys. Even me- but that sort of knowledge comes with a few perks. _You don’t have the spine to hurt me, Eleanor. I know you don’t. Go ahead!”_

“She doesn’t.” Abigor dropped his supplies. “But I do.” 

“That’s not exactly the warm welcome I was expecting, chief.” 

_“Captain.”_

“R-Right.” Troy slowly backed into the wall of his mart. “Listen! Don’t kill me, and I’ll give you a lien bonus. Five percent off all weaponry! Stop! If you spend **ten** more credits than usual, I’ll reimburse you **nine!** _Wait!”_

“Not good enough, I’m afraid.” 

“Let him go.” Eleanor laughed, along with Eos, who mustered a chuckle. 

“Fine, but I’m holding him to his discount.” 

Had another intruder arrived, Eleanor may have begun questioning whether or not it was so wise to hide the Heart of the Coven proficiently, rather than _religiously._ Yet, if that third party watched _unannounced,_ everyone would win. 

“Look at them, chirping like little birds!” Herald giggled gleefully, until he spotted one nearby. “Hey! Get out of here! Tell that witch to keep you away, or I’ll spit roast you! _C’mon…_ Where’s that bloody sword!?” 

He knew from the sound of fractured reality, he was no longer alone. That phenomena was commonplace, for an Oathkeeper clad in bloody rags. **_“That ‘sword’ is more than an heirloom, it is a trophy of the King’s victory over the damned. I will not prevent you from insulting the Coven, but I demand you apply some restraint for Tormentyst.”_ **

“Yeah, but you’d think they’d whip it out every now and then, if it was so special. Ugh, _bo-ring!”_

**_“Trophies are hung on the wall, Herald, not flaunted onto the field of battle.”_ **

“That wouldn’t be the case if it wasn’t given to some simpleton with zero experience. What a joke, this coven is. No. It should’ve gone to _me,_ at least. I actually know how to swing one, you know.” 

**_“You covet that power for yourself, is that it? Hahaha! Diana is owed the sword, by Clotho. If you want it, you’ll need silver eyes, let alone ones stronger than hers. It is a quest with no end. Best you leave behind these dreams, and focus on the objective presented before you, by myself. With the Rhinestone’s finding, you are free to chase the stars.”_ **

Herald formed a worrying smile. “Really?” 

**_“You’ll find no wrath from me. Just pray for what the Coven will do, if you snuff out their brightest light… Clotho won’t be happy, either. Hubris, Herald, hubris. It is tempting, but no eternity of torture is worth such a price. Well, except one.”_ **

“Aha. And, what price would that be?” 

**_“Leave it to me.”_**

Entry No. 3 complete. 

This entry may be finished, but the Archive is not. 


	4. The Daughters of Keres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Slayer of Heretics is not so much remembered as he is feared, the icon of his face enough to send Delphics, and those who would see them prosper, screaming for death. Though true to the myths, all that remains of Keres are the devoted descendants forever hunting under his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Founder Archives are available to read on Fanfiction.net as well, under the same name. Also, they are available on the Official Founder Archives website, FounderArchives.com.

_Entry 4: The Daughters of Keres_

Past the guise of worship, absurdly, Styx had infiltrated the garden of her own home. _Laughable,_ she thought. With her batch of **knives** did she slither across the walls like a spastic spider, taking advantage of every shadow, ensuring no trace remained. To her sisters, she was still pinned by research, forced to read a shocking amount of _books._ Plain, boring old _books._

In search of Xiasma, she tuned out all but the whispers of Diana, the chirping near absolute. Still on property of the Coven, but just outside the impassable mirror unlocked only by magic, they were still safe. Relatively safe, at least. Not until now had an intrusion ever brought concern. 

_“Finally. Goodbye, Herald the VIII!”_ She sighed to no one in particular, hiding one book just to start another. With its title read, she nearly fell out of her chair. _“Herald the **IX!?** Ugh…”_

Styx smiled, remembering how miserably she’d handled the same all those years ago. Here for any sign of deceit, she swore against intervention, even when Diana began to doze off. _“Conceit!_ She knows the rules… Sleep’s only permitted if blessed by the black of a new moon. Not exactly _traitorous,_ though.” 

“Wha… Huh!?” Diana snapped awake. Styx saw it too: several humans, armed with scavenging equipment and masks, approached. “Oh. You guys scared me. It’s not common anyone but Grimm makes their way here. Th-There’s a lot of ways to get lost in these woods. Be careful out here.” 

“We could say the same to you.” The ringleader smiled, inching closer. 

“What do you mean? _Hey!”_ One of them ripped the book away, nearly dropping it in a puddle. 

“Someone of your caliber should _stay_ hidden.” Another cackled. In unison, they pulled Diana away from the table, bringing her to the mud. 

“W-Wait! Please stop. What do you want?” She tried to reason. The only answer brought forth was a cacophony of sneers and kicks. 

_“Hand over the sword!”_

__

Diana refused. **_“Enough!”_** A shout came forth. It couldn’t be Styx- _she_ was still stalking from the trees. Eleanor advanced, hands on her hips. The bandits scrambled in an instant. “You’re not hurt, are you!? Are you alright to stand?” 

“I… Yes. My aura’s still up. I…” She repeated, her voice shaking. 

“Well, at least they didn’t get Tormentyst.” Styx revealed herself. 

“Sister Styx? Who cares about Tormentyst? It’s _her_ who’s in danger.” 

“That’s what they were after! I heard them.” 

“Y-You mean you were watching the entire time?” Eleanor shuddered. 

“I was here to assess if Sister Diana constituted any threat to the Coven. She passed the test, by refusing to use either the blade or her powers.” 

Eleanor couldn’t accept that. “To stand idly by and watch as she is harmed is the height of heresy. _That_ is traitorous. Do **not** slip up in such a manner again.” 

“At least your head’s in the right place, but you’re cruelly mistaken. In times like these, with the so-called Xiasma in our midst, it’s important to gauge who can be trusted among us. _All_ of us.” Styx declared. 

Eleanor stumbled out of the way as Diana broke down in tears, nearly tripping with every step, feeling zero sanctuary from either her friends, or the outside world. With that, there were only two. Where she’d gone was anyone’s guess. “How _dare_ you let this happen.” 

Styx’s eyes, concealed under her hood, narrowed. “You’re starting to scare me, Sister Eleanor. I figured you’d at least understand how desperate times call for desperate measures. Do you know something we don’t?” 

“What _could_ I know?” 

**_“Exactly!”_** She shouted. Whenever Styx raised her voice and contradicted her enigmatic nature, it tended to startle. “We know nothing. Right?” 

“O-Okay. Sure!” 

“Who’s the only person allowed to read those tablets that have brought so much grief?” 

“No.” Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Sister Artemis hasn’t led us astray.” 

“Think about it!” Styx emerged from behind, whispering, her unmatched guile at work. “Nobody can confirm whether or not anything she’s said is true. This whole thing could’ve been a setup. Look over there. Even now, we’re being watched by her vultures. If she’s planning something, we’ve all taken the bait.” 

“Why would she even say anything, then? Wouldn’t she just keep the contents of the tablets a secret? We’re soon to catch up with her in some decades, anyway.” 

“Hmmm… Then there must be some sort of impetus to hatch the scheme _now.”_

“Rather than paint my peers in such a light, I’ll focus on _today._ I think Sister Diana is owed an apology. If word of what’s happened here spreads, and the others are as quick to judge, you may have attracted a lot of attention. Consider this a freebie.” Eleanor began the journey inside Clotho’s Temple. Yet, in the distance, another plume of smoke threatened to delve into destruction the day’s affairs. “But that’ll have to wait. _Look south!”_

“Wait a minute. That looks like it’s from the Keraseer Kingdom!” 

_“I concur. Gather whoever you can, and make haste!”_

An incubus, of faulty origin but unmistakable age, had tormented the lands with only the primal lust for eradication. Experience exhibited a craving for death, never below foul play- but seldom of low intelligence. The _worst_ concoction for a Grimm. And now, it held responsibility for the rampage within the walls of the Keraseer Kingdom, which succeeded Clotho’s Coven in grandeur, home to a trove of imperishable artifacts. Every surface was reflected in gold, tempting to blind _mortals._

A forge was torn from its molten casket and thrown across the banquet, spewing liquid fire across a swarm of human legions. Quickly, the Seventh Brigade was cornered by this abominable Grimm. 

_“This ballista is worthless. Why won’t it **die!?”**_ Abigor begged. 

_“It’s the Geist’s power! It’ll possess our surroundings- **Ahhh!”** _ One of his more scholarlymen would’ve granted a fervent explanation, had he not been gored through the abdomen and whisked towards the ceiling. 

The doors swung open, Eleanor and Eos stepping through. _“Geist.”_

“Impossible!” Eleanor gasped. “Geists don’t fight _exposed._ How old must this specimen be, to have such armor and vitality in its _base_ form?” 

“It must have high defense. _I still have more.”_ Eos said. 

“No question. But if it can survive this long in the weakest form, what would happen if it took control of something?” 

“Don’t _let_ it take control.” Mania charged past them, only to receive a witless reminder of restraint’s value. The Geist let her weapon pass through, weaving such that its weak point- the white mask, was inaccessible. And once it was all done, Mania lurched back to the entrance, a brutal throw the cause. 

“Should we mount a retreat?” Abigor asked a question. 

“Where are the _Keraseers?”_ Eleanor offered one of her own. 

“They can hold their own. Better than we can, frankly.” 

“That’s not the point. Just as Lord Keres is valued above Lady Clotho, so are their kin. If anything happens to them, I’ve failed. _We_ failed. Is this _Geist_ the worst of this incident, or is there something more sinister at play?” 

“Oh, surely there is. If that thing’s smart enough to possess a powerful host, be it another Grimm or an indestructible blade, we’re finished. You didn’t bring Tormentyst, did you?” 

_“Questions are for the weak.”_ Eos decreed. “We’ve already missed our chance.” Ahead, the Geist had phased into a prodigious statue of the fabled _Kyradin Bael._ Bit by bit, the bronze humanoid twitched. And once it had stepped forward, groaning like mad, there was no choice left but to fight. 

The screeches of bloodshed kept the Geist from advancing, critically, as any shift in the battle opposite the castle would’ve proved indomitable for Artemis. Alongside her, five foreign knights of indistinguishable appearance waited. Artemis took advantage of the lapse in Grimm to recuperate. 

“How… How were the walls even breached?” 

The **Keraseer Wife,** _Demeter,_ raised a hand. “They _weren’t._ A beast became one with the gates, and opened them, before walking through the rest of our defenses.” 

“Geist.” Artemis deduced. “Were you able to determine its age?” 

“I’m afraid not.” 

“…Lady Demeter. Sir _Orthus.”_ She identified the monarch. “We can’t risk anything. Take your daughters far from here, and wait for our return.” 

“We are not above combat, Artemis.” 

“I know. It’s just… Something about this doesn’t feel right.” 

“With all due respect,” Demeter said. “We are free to make that decision ourselves.” 

“The chance is yours to take, but we cannot stay _here._ Follow me if you must.” Vulnerable, a hidden Boarbatusk spun her down, but stealthier was _Styx,_ who lunged in the way to drive her knives deep into the stomach. It died faster than it arrived. 

Demeter paused, before waiving the other Keraseers away. “I alone will help you. We were bred to combat a foe bested eons ago. How much trouble could his _children_ be?” 

As if to provide an answer, the possessed Kyradin Bael smashed through the wall-spanning murals, Eleanor in hand. Completely alone, it would not leave without recompense. The rest of the Grimm were gone, either dead or smart enough to flee the scene once both Keraseers and Silver-Eyed warriors joined forces, but the Geist had _started_ the invasion. It would see this to the end. Determination was high, but it wouldn’t get far, not with Artemis at the helm. She shot open its hand, releasing her ally. 

“Can you keep it occupied?” Artemis asked Demeter. 

_“Can_ I? Please.” She was the best choice for this sort of task. Through her semblance, which was passed down through ancestry, she entrapped an arm of the haunted effigy, creating an opening for the Keraseer Heirloom. But there were still incoming attacks to be weary of, thus, Eos commenced her standard defensive position. But while they had her hands full stalling the fiend, everyone else had to form a plan to _kill._

“You have a plan, right, Abigor?” 

“As always, Eleanor, you are correct. But first, let me just confirm with any Grimm hunters. The Geist’s only weak point is that mask present in its most exposed form, right?” 

“Right.” 

“Then all we have to do is draw it out. _Force_ it out. There’s only one way, literally. We’ll have to incapacitate it, with this _ballista.”_ What remained of the Seventh Brigade dragged the weapon inside. “Then, one of you is to attack the mask. I cannot do it alone. I’ll need you to divide and conquer each limb, one at a time. I’d start with the eyes.” 

“Done.” Artemis leapt into the air, unleashing a volley of arrows. All would’ve been blocked if not for Demeter’s distraction, which let _two_ bypass the Geist’s tantrum, blinding it in an instant. Styx already had the wits to swindle an opponent _with_ sight. Now, breaking off the reanimated legs was a _bore._

Before the statue could brace for a crippling fall, Mania dislocated first one shoulder with her scythe, then the other, eliminating every defensive option. With that, Abigor ordered the ballista’s activation. 

Once stapled to the wall, all the cast sculpture could do was writhe and convulse, emitting a terrible, metallic scream. Everyone covered their ears. It wasn’t long until it had abandoned this vessel, once again smearing through the air with the standard black, dried carrion that acted as a body for every Geist. Eleanor’s best efforts were not enough. It swirled past every attack, distinctly giggling, before departing towards the setting sun. 

Styx paused. “…Does this count as vandalism towards Sir Kyradin Bael?” 

“I’ll arrange Lord Keres to issue a pardon.” Demeter joked. “You deserve that much. There is nothing I could do to express my thanks.” 

“Well…” Artemis looked to her allies for reassurance. “We’re dealing with something of a crisis back home. I figured a Descendant was right to know, and offer something we could not.” 

“Oh, is that why you’ve come? Not to help, but to bargain? How flattering.” 

_“Haha.”_ She rolled her eyes before launching into the series of events that’d led her most specifically here. Not yet could she truly reveal the intricacies of the tablet’s texts, but her brief explanation worked now as well as it had before. 

“I see. So, in short, Xiasma waits among us. Among **you.** Anyone who’s vowed to bring back Trajan is a sworn enemy of the Keraseers. You _know_ that’s the way it’s always been, but let’s not limit the scope. There’s only _one_ race that would ever seek such a thing.”   


“I can’t remember how long it’s been since I last saw a **Delphic.”** Artemis grimaced. 

“I’ve _never_ seen one.” Styx shrugged, to the approval of Eleanor, who elaborated. 

“There _is_ one out there, though. The Eidolons are growing restless, and unless their hunger can be ceased, the Captain Aku will return to the frontlines.” 

“But what’s the point?” Demeter corrected. _“He’s_ not the traitor. One of you are. So the question begs- who among us is a Delphic?” 

Every member of the Coven burst out laughing, even Eos. 

_“Alright guys, it was me! I’ve secretly been a Delphic all these years, you got me!”_ Styx managed to chuckle out in between her whooping. 

“I’m so glad to see you’re all taking this seriously. What about you? I don’t recall letting anyone other than _Descendants_ past these walls.” 

“Me?” Abigor sat up. “Head of the Seventh Brigade, second only to warriors of your rank. My troops and I wander Remnant and save humans from themselves and faunus, in _addition_ to Grimm. Bit of a foreign concept, I’m sure, but it just saved _you._ That must count for something.” 

“I _suppose_ you’re right-“ 

“Excellent! If you ever need my help again, just yell.” 

“Cocky little human, aren’t you?” 

“Only if that’s what you’re into.” 

“H-Hey!” Eleanor, flustered, stepped in front of him. “Shut it!” 

Demeter marched past the charred architecture, most of it little more than embers, to a cobweb caked chest. Inside waited a stack of maps. “You were right to come to a historian such as I, but the fact you’re here at all, Artemis, means you’re at a dead end. I wish I could be of more help, but all is not lost, yet. There is one more Descendant tribe, from the shores of a westward beach. Aha, here it is! **_Herald the XVI_** _awaits._ Only a servant to the Arbiter could know more than us.” 

“Ever since the Heralds fell one by one, we’ve kept our distance. Where is he?” 

“He, and the Old Fang, have merged forces with a newly formed city, founded by a man who calls himself Gaius. I think they see something in the alliance, in terms of security. But for now, their relationship is seen as a symbol of unity, between humans and faunus.” 

“What is this state’s name?” Artemis interrupted. 

“Ah, it says right here. **Servus City.”**

_“We’re done here.”_ Eos boomed. _“’Servus City’_ will have to _wait._ Look. _Smoke._ Another sign of an invasion. Hopefully, this one will be more manageable.” 

“May we keep this, Lady Demeter?” Artemis held her hand for the map, receiving it with no argument. In a near instant, all but the queen of this kingdom were lined up, ready to bolt towards _another_ quest. As immortals, it was clear they took solace in the fact their work was never _truly_ done. For everyone else, exhaustion was beginning to set in. 

“Actually, I think I’ll stick around here, with Miss Keraseer.” Abigor smirked, knowing exactly what he was doing. 

“You’ll do nothing of the sort!” Eleanor grabbed his hand and pulled him along. 

Now approaching nightfall, they had to watch their step across many villages, some of which were wealthy, though most of them quant. The myth of the Coven was not known to just a few. Every civilian could see the column of smoke upon the mountains, noting how the five heroes paraded only _towards_ danger, never away. They cheered. That sound always emboldened Clotho’s Coven. 

Entry No. 4 complete. 

This entry may be finished, but the Archive is not. 


	5. City of Cheers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Servus Portum, the free City of Cheers. For the people, this is a prosperous city, the landmark military capital, the liberties of which are chanted from the farthest cliffs to the distant seas. Centuries from now, songs of its glory will be sung by mortals who remember the extraordinary principles this land in time was built upon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Founder Archives are available to read on Fanfiction.net as well, under the same name. Also, they are available on the Official Founder Archives website, FounderArchives.com.

_Entry 5: City of Cheers_

“So, _this_ is the place, huh?” Eleanor read out the many crimson flags lining the bridge ahead. Behind them, a massive idol of the magnate tempted their entry through an outstretched hand. With the smell of the ocean sweltering from below, and the rising sun’s grant of the clouds an orange hue, this empire very nearly compared to the awe of the Coven’s bastion. It was inspiring. 

“Admit it. You’re impressed.” Eos hauled on her back a multitude of weapons. Most of them were dented, cracked, or dulled. 

“I’m more surprised you lugged all that junk here. Remind me why, again? It’s not breakfast, is it?” 

“No… It’s missing salt.” 

“You should try that more often. Being funny, I mean. I like when you try.” 

“I’m not trying.” All that brought, along with the next order, was more laughing. “Stop laughing… No, _the truth is,_ I brought this here as a peace offering. Not that it’s needed. I was told this settlement is the forefront of human technology and blacksmithing. I’m curious what dreadful killing tools they can craft out of _this._ Can a champion’s weapon re-forged ever swing the same again?” 

“I think there’s only one man who can answer that question. **_Gaius._** Ambitious, for a human. That must be him, there.” She pointed towards the stone statue. “He’s bigger in person… Oh, c’mon! _That_ was funny.” 

“No, but your failure certainly was.” Eleanor whacked her in the arm. “Did you say something?” 

_“Allow me to clarify.”_ A stranger slid beside them. “This statue is of **you.** And _him.”_ He pointed at an unidentified worker. “And that woman over _there!_ The populace is what built this city, and ultimately, _they_ are the ones to be celebrated. Notice the lack of any definable regalia. We do not plague the lands with reminders of power, here. The Republic will remain absolute, long after my time here is done.And _that_ is **not** Gaius. _But I am.”_

“You?” 

_“Welcome. Welcome to Servus City!_ Just as Herald said, it was foretold that you would come. You must be… Artemis?” 

“Sister Artemis _sent_ us, rather. _My name is Eleanor. I am merely an ally.”_

“Eos.” 

Gaius clapped, walking further into Servus City. “Excellent, excellent- I was beginning to think an expert on Grimm would _never_ arrive. And just in the nick of time, too. No doubt, the rumors brought you here. It’s just a shame the rest of your Coven couldn’t make it, because this may be more than a two person job.” 

“What are you _talking_ about?” Eleanor managed to cut in, flustered both with his monologue and the brilliance of the surroundings. 

“Why, the Bone Graveyard, of course! Isn’t that why you’re here? Oh, Eos, is it? I appreciate the gesture, and I have no doubt this equipment served you well, but I’m afraid we’re above such barbaric weaponry here.” 

“Suit yourself.” 

“Take for example this state of the art artillery. No simple catapult, these cannons take advantage of our best scholars and engineers. This is one of a kind. Through the use of gears and pistons, _and some dust,_ we can launch one of these with greater velocity than any weapon that’s come before.” Gaius dragged what appeared to be an enlarged, pointed shell of ammunition. “I’m sure it seems like witchcraft. But believe us when we tell you, these weapons can defend better than _any_ army.” 

“This is certainly intriguing, and I appreciate the tour, but we’re in an urgent situation. We’re here looking for Herald-“ Eleanor began speaking. 

_“Yes, yes, the Bone Graveyard, that’s it._ Come quickly, I’ll bring you _right_ to it. I’m just thankful you had the wits to answer my call before things got out of hand. You’re a difficult Coven to get ahold of, but you certainly know how to keep a minister waiting. If we work _together,_ I predict we could settle this error, in a manner that profits us _both.”_

_“What are you talking about!?”_

“I know, it sounds absurd, but seeing it yourself is better than any description that could’ve brought you here.” 

Past the vendors and gardens, he toured his guests, receiving zero attention from his subjects. If Gaius was in fact the ruler, one couldn’t tell from the way he was presented. 

Eleanor grew impatient once they stopped at the very core of Servus City. “So, what’s this? Why did you bring us here? To look at an oozing hole in the ground?” 

Gaius paused, then cleared his throat. “There was a man who lived here for many years, under the alias of Agramon. He served us well, but when the time came, he joined the rest above. My residents are the heart of this place, and I honored them with a burial in the center, overlooking the lands they loved so.” 

“You wanted to enshrine them at the highest peak.” Eleanor knew this tradition well. “That doesn’t explain why all the graves are down there, in a chasm.” 

“This _was_ the apex of height. It’s been nearly a year since it began sinking, and now, here we are. You should’ve seen the beauty from this pedestal at its prime. The rising sun- the brisk winds? The way the skies blushed pink in the afternoons. It was _breathtaking.”_

“Okay. What does any of this have to do with us? We’re not in the business of landscaping.” 

Gaius aimed his cane at the tallest tombstone, which was shrouded in a black haze. “I know why this is happening. Agramon sleeps at the center of it all, his corpse unrelenting. I don’t know how, but there’s some sort of cruel magic at play. He is spreading this bitter _infection,_ of which Clotho’s Coven, though innocent, is still responsible. Don’t you understand? The expanding Infection is **Grimm.** _Agramon was a Delphic.”_

Eos dropped her stash of armaments. _“Servus City harbored a Delphic? This is treason of the highest order.”_

“I-I didn’t _know_ he was Grimm! None of us did until his passing. He never left his house except for combat, and then at night? He would just barricade himself back inside. Like you, the man valued his privacy.” 

**_“That_** _was no man.”_ Eos corrected. 

_“Don’t you understand!?_ His deception allowed a sacrifice for his city. That’s what matters. He was to be entombed with full Servus customs! Agramon was a Delphic, _yes,_ but he was still a soldier first.” 

_“Then you are guilty for this as well! No Delphic is worth such dignity.”_

Eleanor set a hand on Eos’ shoulder, silencing her. “I have given Delphics a shallow grave, before. They’ve never left any sort of influence after death. Do you know why this one is any different?” 

“You’re asking me? I assumed this to be a common phenomenon, for everyone of this species. My mistake.” 

“This is nonsense.” Eos stomped into the Bone Graveyard past them. “There’s only one thing **to** do. This _‘Agramon’_ is still kicking after death? Then crack open the casket and snuff out what little hope remains. Take notes, Gaius. _This_ is how you give a dead Delphic its due respect.” 

_“What are you doing!? Stop! I’m ordering you! Have you lost your mind!?”_ He screamed. Eleanor only watched as Eos shoved her hand into the colorless bog and tore the sarcophagus out from the ground with ease. It reeked. More surprising was the state of the Delphic inside. 

“What?” Eos let go and stumbled back. 

_“Impossible.”_

The three froze, daring each other to make the first move. _“The coffin is empty.”_

Artemis’ vultures circled, their caws pushing the silence back into its cage. 

“I can’t say I understand what’s happened here, nor how this infection was left in the Delphic’s wake.” Eleanor said. “There are some things even a Silver-Eyed Warrior has never seen, but I’ve witnessed _stranger_. We’re not new to such occult arts. This does confirm one thing, however. Somewhere, the missing body is walking free. As soon as we’re done with Herald, the search can begin.” 

Gaius coughed. “The _problem_ is Agramon. The _solution_ is Agramon. Go to Herald if you must. You can find him in the tallest spire, easily seen from here. The people thank you.” 

“We thank you as well, Gaius. Not just for this, but for revealing to us a Delphic still remains. I do not know how it is alive, if what you say is true. But I have a feeling, with its death, the Bone Graveyard will return to normal. Perhaps one day, after that’s done, we may return and celebrate this triumph.” 

“You’re going to have your hands full trying to beat him. Agramon was a model soldier in life. One can only guess what power he’s seized in _death._ The only fight he ever lost was the one that killed him, when he gave his life to stop a Geist, with his _silver eyes.”_

Eos and Eleanor stopped to share a glance. They said nothing else, and departed. With every crowd, a fraction would stop to shake Eleanor’s hand, or bow before her. No matter where she went, the fame of the legendary Coven followed. Eos was in much the same position, but her less amicable reputation, born of myth, brought a level of esteem few dared challenge. 

“We’re looking for-” Eleanor pulled back a red curtain, nearly bumping into her target. _“…You.”_

“Eleanor! Always a pleasure. And Eos, too? Lucky me. You didn’t bring an Eidolon with you, right? _Just joking.”_ Herald saluted. As the conversation continued, he patrolled repetitively, dripping candle wax into the artificial fountain lining the velvet curtained cell. “Word on the street is, you and your allies are in desperate need of knowledge. Something about a _traitor_ among the six heroes, who’ll bring back Trajan? Terrible.” 

“That’s exactly it. I guess we came to the right place.” Eleanor handed forward the texts responsible for everything. “We are not allowed to read any teachings from Lady Clotho above our level, but the last psychic tablet isn’t written by her. It’s available for anyone, but we can’t read this tongue. Maybe you could decipher it.” 

_“…Do you realize who wrote this?”_

“Obviously not. We just said that.” 

“It was a figure of speech, missy. Any fool could tell this is from the hand of Kyradin Bael, in the language acquired before the First Bewitchment. No wonder you _twits_ can’t make any sense of it… _I-I take it back!_ You can lower your weapons…” 

They waited in anticipation for the wisdom of the Arbiter. Perhaps now, there’d be an answer- some sort of _direction._ Herald read in silence, savoring the attention. “Uhuh. _Okay._ I’ve confirmed that everything you’ve gathered so far is correct. The only thing this adds is a revelation about relics. You see, there are two of them. The first is called _Black Dust,_ but of particular note is the other: the **Beryl Rhinestone.”**

Eleanor shook her head. “Something about this doesn’t add up. Why would Lady Clotho ever point us towards a relic? You _need_ one to summon Trajan. There’s no reason for her to give us the means to do so.” 

“It’s out of the question. The thought that she’d aid Trajan’s resurrection is unfathomable.” Eos said. 

“The same could be said of any of us. But even still, she’s guiding us towards a relic. What if this is what she wants?” 

_“That could not be what she meant…_ It **can’t** be. It wasn’t her who wrote this anyway. It was Kyradin Bael.” 

“What’s the difference?” __

Herald handed the tablets back. “All I know is, they want you to find the Beryl Rhinestone. And once you have, bring it here, and I’ll figure out what happens next. Deal?” 

Eleanor lifted her head from her hands and strutted to the balcony, contemplating. “What happens next…? Of course… _Of course!_ Without the relics, Trajan can never return! They want us to _destroy_ them!” 

“Wait.” Herald contested. “Aha- Y-You don’t wanna go and do something silly like _that._ Don’t jump to conclusions. Just bring it here, to _me,_ and I’ll outline our next move. For Clotho, right?” A powerful ringing burst out, startling most but causing immediate _panic_ for Eos and Eleanor. 

_“That was the dome of the Keep.”_ Eos looked to the sky, witnessing a ripple in the air, originating from the distant east. “A lapse in the shields! Our home is _vulnerable_ to the arms of Grimm. We’ll be needed there.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“The barrier sealing ourselves from the world. Rarely, if ever, does it falter- but should it ever, our emotions are no longer masked, and anyone is granted entry. There’s no time to waste.” Eleanor explained. 

“You serious? What caused it in the first place?” 

“We won’t know until we’re there. One day, should we ever reunite, I’ll tell you. Till then. Sister Eos, do you know where the others are? Were any of them still there when we left?” 

“Only Sister Diana.” 

Herald quickly sat up, smirking. “Oh? I’d better come with you. Your silver eyes and heavenly weaponry are impressive, but a master of the _Old Arts_ is still necessary.” 

“He’s right.” Gaius announced his presence. “We can’t afford to lose you.” 

_“You were listening in?”_ Eos growled. 

“There’s no time.” Eleanor rushed outside, ignoring the murmurs of concerned civilians who caught sight of the horizon-wide outburst. A confrontation was in order. Many years had passed peacefully without any sign of decay in the invisible walls confining the Heart of the Coven, of which very little could be held accountable. Whoever had contributed to this crisis would need to be disciplined, but all that mattered _now_ was preventing an attack. Never before had a Grimm trespassed. If that changed, guilt wouldn’t be the only consequence. 

“What’s going on, ladies?” Troy yawned at his post, preparing a handshake. They pushed him aside, gunning forward. _“Hey!_ I asked you a question! Wait up!” 

They checked in right on time to observe the cracked security, a frenzied Artemis bursting from the gates, barking. _“Who breached the Coven’s walls? I command an answer!”_

_“Neither of us.”_ Eos subtly stepped in front of Eleanor. 

“I can vouch for them!” Herald snapped his fingers. “We just arrived moments ago.” 

“Same for _me.”_ Styx formed from the shadows. “I had nothing to do with this.” 

Artemis sighed. “…Herald. It’s been awhile. I’m sure you’ve heard of the terrible fate prophesized by our master. And you would understand, there is nothing more _traitorous_ than severing the aegis keeping our home at peace. Are we _all_ clear, here? Whoever did this has painted a target of astronomical proportions on their back.” 

**_“Wrong.”_** Mania announced. With one hand on the shoulder of Diana, the truth was revealed. “Sister Diana and I were training her silver eyes, and, foolishly, I pushed her too far. She strained herself, causing a power surge that bounced off the barricade. I take full responsibility for this.” 

The youngest attempted to take partial blame, though Artemis wasn’t amused. “W-Wait. It’s not fair of you to take the fall for my mistake-“ 

“Sister Diana is only to practice under _my_ strict supervision. Someone could get hurt. _She_ could get hurt. What were you thinking?” As the discussion continued, Herald spotted _Tormentyst_ enshrined on the bench of Eos’ garden, placed there upon Diana’s entrance. Slowly, as gingerly as possible, he slithered behind everyone to claim it. He would’ve succeeded too, had Eleanor not strangled him back for support. 

“I already told you, we were at Servus City, with the Old Fang. Just ask Herald!” 

“Look.” Styx said. “We’re getting off track, here. C’mon, these two already admitted to doing it.” 

Artemis paced. “Even by accident, this doesn’t add up. If it doesn’t make sense, it can never be true. Sister Mania, we have rules! You know the difference between right and wrong.” 

“Sh-She did it because of me. I asked her to help me!” Diana pleaded. “I didn’t think there was any harm in it. I’m sorry.” 

“What are you suggesting, Sister Artemis?” Mania said. “Foul play? I’d never do such a thing.” 

“I’m following orders. Remember, one of us is Xiasma. Keeping Trajan out of Remnant matters above all else. I apologize that _I’m_ the only one taking any of this seriously! But our council has persevered for generations uncounted. _It is through our allegiance that Remnant may rest, undying!_ We’ll have to take drastic measures to preserve that law, now.” 

“We’re dealing with this as best we can. Pointing fingers isn’t going to help anything.” Eleanor tried to reason. 

_“She’s right, you know. ‘Inculto!’”_ Herald commented in a high pitched tone, mocking them with his hand, still stuck in Eleanor’s grip. 

Artemis swallowed. “We don’t need your input, Sister Eleanor. I know it wasn’t you. _You’re_ not the one I’m worried about.” Eleanor, at being approached, placed a hand on the hilt of her sword. Not necessary. Eos stepped in front of her, the hulking tank’s mere presence drawing away any attacks. _“How dare you.”_

“Enough of this!” Eleanor shouted. “How are we this easily splintered? Aren’t we supposed to be a devoted family? And look at us, now. Squabbling like children.” 

“This is _exactly_ what Trajan’s been waiting for.” Styx said. “The moment we lose our bond with each other, the greatest force against Grimm is finished.” 

“…Of course. That was foolish of me.” Artemis walked away, eyes trained on the others. “We’re too paranoid. We’ll settle this diplomatically, at a later date, once I’m in better judgment. Until then, I’ll repair the shield. No matter what happens, promise me we’ll have each other’s backs.” 

Hesitantly, each of them nodded. 

“In the meantime, I suggest you all get some rest. It’s not often we are blessed with sleep. Cherish it. Once the ritual is complete, it’ll be a long while before you find another chance. Perhaps… Perhaps tomorrow, under the spell of a new moon, everything will seem better. Seem _lighter._ Let’s just hope.” 

_“Er, wait! Ah… Gah! No!”_ Herald hissed, lightly struggling as Eleanor dragged him outside, away from Tormentyst. In the dead of night, she let him go. 

“A connoisseur of the Old Arts should have an easy trip back. I’ll miss you, Herald. It’s unfortunate _this_ is how we had to reunite.” 

“…I’d agree.” He stomped away, trying to hide his anger, mumbling incoherently about _Tormentyst_ as he kicked up piles of dirt with every stride. 

Eos put a hand on Eleanor’s back, and the two watched the sky under the guidance of constellations. In a strange twist, _Eos_ spoke up first. “I wouldn’t hold this against Sister Artemis. A grudge is not in the spirit of the Coven. She cares. You can’t hold that against her.” 

“What worries me is, she was _right._ Someone in that room is playing us. I-It could be you. Promise me. Promise me you’re not the imposter.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Think of all the times you or I had the chance to let the other fall, and took the _right_ path. If I’ve been planning to stab you in the back, I’m not a very good mastermind. I’ve missed my chance a hundred times over.” 

Eleanor smiled, then studied the stars. “I wish we’d never found these stupid tablets… Was this _really_ Lady Clotho’s wish? There must be a happy ending to all this, right?” 

“She’s been at this far longer than us. I accept the fate she’s set before me. We’ve never been failed by her, _before.”_

Entry No. 5 complete. 

This entry may be finished, but the Archive is not. 


	6. The Sad Fate of the Anti-Citadel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the hushed whispers shared between marauders, and the murmured stories told to children at nightfall, there is but one lesson to never forget: Fear the Anti-Citadel. For behind that cruel gate, there slumbers an eight-legged guardian- the colossus whom was never meant to exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Founder Archives are available to read on Fanfiction.net as well, under the same name. Also, they are available on the Official Founder Archives website, FounderArchives.com.

_Entry 6: The Sad Fate of the Anti-Citadel_

Alone, in the outer moat of the Coven, under the cloak of harmony, Eleanor stretched upon a sheet of leaves. The rapid waterfalls masked any other sound but her lullabies, until Abigor ruined everything with his constant _talking._

“Who can tell the best joke?” 

_“You win.”_

That drew a laugh, surprisingly enough. “Nonsense. You must’ve seen _something_ funny since the last time we played this game.” 

“Yeah. Your face.” 

“…So be it.” He snickered, mocking her monotone disinterest. “Why don’t you _‘face’_ me in a duel, then?” 

“Ugh! That was your worst one yet.” Eleanor admitted. 

“Just think about it, a little. Experience is the best practice. Imagine how much we could learn from each other. You could even pick up a thing or two about _strategy,_ and _I_ could learn how to _run_ from battle.” 

“Hey!” Eleanor sat up. “I don’t run from battle! It’s called a tactical retreat. You already know, but I’ll repeat nonetheless. I won’t _fight_ you, even for sport. I can’t hurt you.” 

“You could _never_ hurt me.” 

Eleanor picked up a stray rock and charged a throw. A bluff, as usual. “You’re ridiculous.” 

“Fine, fine. A shame. Could’ve been a nice warm up for the mission, considering you’re forcing me to travel alone. Where do you want me to go, again?” 

“You’re not alone, fool. You, along with Herald, are going to find what’s called a **Beryl Rhinestone.** ” ****

_“…Why?”_

“Our little secret. We’ve been over this: Herald’s translation demands it.” 

“Then why am I running errands? Couldn’t you, or anyone from around here, get the job done without error? You’re not trying to get rid of me, are you?” 

“Blame Herald. His navigation skills and familiarity with region soon to be ventured has brought a mission that cannot be completed without him. Yet, our own relations with last _several_ Heralds of Kyradin Bael resulted in their death, at the hands of Aku’s crew, who seem to follow us wherever we go. It’s why we spent years avoiding Herald until now. You’ll have to take our place.” 

“Finally, _I_ get to play hero. I’ll thank Aku once I’ve beaten him. The guy’s all bark, I’m telling you.” 

“Listen.” She snorted. _“Even as a Delphic, respect that it is more powerful than you, and it **is.** _ There are warriors who were vastly superior to you and me- as in, better by a factor of _ten._ They faced Aku with far greater caution than you seem _capable_ of exercising, and where are they now? _Trophies._ Rumor has it, their bodies are used as decorations on the **Falsus Heredis.”**

“…What a silly name, for a silly guy.” 

_“Hahaha._ Oh, you’re _so_ dead when the time comes.” 

“You’re right about _one_ thing. The fight will be decided **before** any blades meet. Skill is certainly nice, but without brains, it’s worthless. And yet, we’re speaking about a master enslaved by their own pets, too cowardly to enter battle unless threatened by them. Don’t you see? Equipment and planning is key. You should know something about that- always concealed by armor. Come to think of it, it’s not often I get to see you _without_ your helmet. Why not try one day without it?” 

“Y-You know I can’t. A Descendant exposing themselves to another of lesser creed in such a manner is frowned upon.” Eleanor looked away. 

“You’re always going on about silver eyes, but I hardly ever have a chance to see them. I bet they’re still gorgeous as ever.” 

Eleanor’s face reddened, not that he could tell, yet. Defensively, she scanned the area only to spot one of Artemis’ vultures. _“Shoo.”_ Begrudgingly, the obedient bird flapped through the forest roof, cutting a path for sunlight. No longer masked by the shining armor, Eleanor and Abigor quickly found each other’s eyes. As they inched closer, neither spoke a word. 

_“I’ve got wares fit for heirs, fellow travelers. Don’t be shy!”_ Troy hummed, slicing his way through the thick foliage with a dull cutlass. Thankfully, he was slow. Instinctively, Eleanor scrambled to place her helmet back on, Abigor’s contagious laughter doing little to help but plenty to hinder. “Ah, _you_ two. What’s so funny?” 

“N-Nothing!” Eleanor blared out, pleading with a stare at Abigor. He relented. 

“Just telling old stories.” He lied. “Gearing up for a new assignment, as a matter of fact. Typical zealous work. You know, the usual.” 

Eleanor cleared her throat and stood up. “Not that you have any _right_ to know. There’s a long history of Coven benefactors who didn’t realize the danger they put themselves in through sheer proximity to us. You should move on.” 

Troy feigned offense. “Hey, I’m human, same as him! The _Ferryman for the Coven_ ought to be clued in a bit, wouldn’t you say?” 

“The difference between you and _me,”_ Abigor scoffed. “Is that I’m the _renowned Captain of the Seventh Brigade,_ and you’re _Troy.”_

“Eh… No shortage of self-esteem issues, are there?” 

“The numbers of soldiers I’ve outlived? It’s no question you’ll sit among them. I hope it’s not too far to say that someone like _you_ has poor chances of surpassing me.” 

“B-But you’ll still need someone to take you there! Wherever _‘there’_ is. I’m the guy for the job. Ask anyone, I get around a lot! Back me up here, Eleanor!” 

She yawned. “Nobody here even knows where Summit’s Blight _is._ Only Herald holds such information. _He_ decides who’ll take the trip.” 

_“Oho! I’m touched!”_ The faunus himself intervened, skipping maniacally. “Don’t worry, you can bow later.” 

“You mean I’m in?” Troy said. 

“The more I bring with me, the less likely _I’ll_ be the one to die.” 

“What _are_ you doing here?” Eleanor stretched. “Come, quick. If a bunch of Descendants are going to stand around, we’d best do it under the protection of Clotho’s blessing.” 

“What about us!?” Both humans questioned in unison. 

“If you want, you may tag along.” Herald said. “You might get more than you bargained for, though. See for yourself. But, with better weapons, I’m sure any and all threats will disappear. Why don’t I give Tormentyst a try? You know, recompense for the death of the previous Heralds.” 

“No.” Eleanor assumed a defensive posture. “The sword stays with its rightful owner.” 

“…What if I offered her a lesson in the Old Arts?” 

“Impossible. That’s the most cherished form of meditative combat conceived. It is reserved for Heralds and Keraseers. You’re either desperate beyond reason, or insane, if you’re willing to give it up for a sword. Move along.” 

“O-Of course. Slip of the tongue.” His apology resulted in the withdrawal of all but Eleanor, who was left to ponder alone. She waved Abigor goodbye. 

Crossing the channel was a task made trivial through the use of Gaius’ warships. Any incoming Grimm _under_ the age of a century would’ve been diced, their hastily disintegrating parts scattered across the ocean by the revolutionary cannons on deck. More important was the confidence they _inspired._ The lack of doubt deterred Grimm. 

“Well. This is nice.” Troy mumbled, setting up shop on a beach. The sun never slackened. To his side, Herald stepped off the ship and began a march towards a cluster of silver, upraised canyons ahead. 

“Yeah, sure. This is like a no-man’s continent. Paradise for some, I’m sure. But I can’t stand the heat, and this sunshine’s giving me a headache. You’d think a place this remote might have some rain, but no. _‘Summit’s Blight’_ is basically ripe for plundering. The **rumors** have scared everyone away.” 

“What rumors?” 

As they traversed deeper and deeper, even _Herald_ had to admire what was, at _worst,_ an arid land untouched by mortal greed. “You _really_ want to know? There was this gem called the Meridian. Worth so much value was it that countless thieves and bandits starved trying to reach it. Eventually, one pack of them succeeded. The cursed diamond trapped them together, until the only way to survive was to _eat_ each other. My guess? They found what we’re looking for, now. The _Beryl Rhinestone.”_

“That’s ridiculous.” Abigor stated. 

“You’re right. I made it up, to gauge your intelligence. You passed.” 

“Ha. My turn. Why are we here? What does the Rhinestone do?” 

“Fine, fine. I’m sure the silvery-eye-simpletons couldn’t be bothered to tell _you.”_ Herald quickly retracted his insult once Abigor held a blade to his back. “Oh! I-I misspoke! Listen. Squeezing information out of the Coven is as fruitless an endeavor as these _trees.”_ He smacked one to make his point. “If knowledge is power, they have the means to crush anyone. But I am not bound by such an oath of secrecy.” 

“Spit it out. I’ve known Eleanor for years but she’s never parted her history.” 

“There are four gods. That’s the hierarchy of Keres, Hestia, Clotho, and Trajan, from highest to lowest faith. The Beryl Rhinestone was the jewel of Hestia’s prized necklace, gifted as a symbol of peace by Trajan, before the Second Bewitchment. When an object is imbued with such power, and made so pivotal in the quest of gods, it becomes transcendent in purpose. That’s how the game of Relics is played. There is, if you can believe it, a fifth deity. My instructor, _Kyradin Bael._ He is the only one who still walks Remnant.” 

“Mhm.” Troy frantically jotted everything down. 

“So, what’s the Second Bewitchment? And the relevance of the stone?” Abigor asked. 

“It’s a tad complicated, but I’ll try to make it easy so you two slugs can understand. Let’s start with _‘Lore: 101.’_ There were two supreme beings. Their feud brought Grimm _and_ humanity- one for each’s dogma. Eventually, from the strife of humanity, they caused the First Bewitchment, and shortly departed. Think of it like a curse that spanned the continent, brought on by the darker, less charitable maker. But his brother was a fan of _balance.”_

Abigor tilted his head. “Let me guess. Not satisfied, he summoned the five gods we worship today, to rule over whatever might’ve remained.” 

_“Close.”_ Herald admitted. “He summoned three. _Keres, Slayer of Heretics. Hestia, Blood of the Pure._ And _Clotho, Scourge of the Grimm._ The Dark Brother, let’s call him, wouldn’t be outdone. He spawned _Trajan, Spawn of the Damned,_ as an infiltrator. It was that choice that led to a long conflict, and the Second Bewitchment. This time, **just** the Gods were exiled, and humanity, faunus, and Delphics were spared. Now, we’re alone. Frankly, _I_ see it as a good thing.” 

“I see. How does the Rhinestone play into all this?” 

“The only way to bring back Trajan is with the **Rhinestone,** or the **Black Dust.”**

_“What!?”_

The details of his story washed over the ignorant, the implications _too_ enlightening. They only stopped to check their surroundings once a sign had been reached. 

“Anti-Citadel?” Troy read out nervously. 

“Yep. This area was a favorite of the first Herald. He’d come here often, naming it in secret to ensure whatever was hidden would not be disturbed. Of course, nobody knew that until these terrible tablets came to light. How fortunate.” 

“What was he trying to hide?” 

“You’re _inviting_ me to make up scary stories, at this point.” 

Abigor changed subjects, walking down a stack of carved stairs towards a frighteningly tall vault, constructed from wood. “What about the fifth god? _‘The Arbiter’?_ Where did **he** come from? How did **he** survive Trajan’s war, and the Second Bewitchment?” 

_“Nobody knows.”_

“Uh, guys?” Troy interrupted, thoroughly _past_ the entrance. “What’s that?” 

But they needn’t any warning, for the Grimm ahead was impossible to miss once light flooded the cavern. Ensnared in diabolical chains, seemingly asleep, **_Galathyn_** rested beneath a _cloud_ that broke the otherwise cheery mood. This fog was tirelessly thick, with unnatural tendrils fighting in vain to expand the cramped space. 

“The _Rhinestone!”_ Withholding a celebration was nearly beyond Herald. “See? That thing’s holding it. Once we get the stone, I’ll be free to carry out my dreams in peace!” 

“Wait.” Abigor boomed. “You need discipline. We have no idea what we’re going up against, here.” 

“Ah, where did all that confidence go?” 

“There’s a time and a place, Troy. Joking about the horrors of bloodshed is how _many_ of us cope with it, but if you treat the warpath as one does the _flower fields_ , then _that_ is where you’ll be buried. Herald! Do you know what that thing is?” 

“Not like any Grimm _I’ve_ ever seen. Must be one of a kind. Legend spoke of the spider Grimm nicknamed the Grand Gatekeeper, _Galathyn,_ but said nothing of the Rhinestone’s involvement. You may have noticed, but it’s not easy being a historian.” 

_“Easier than a soldier. We **make** history. You simply observe it.” _

_“Shhhhh!”_ Troy hooted. “I think it’s sleeping!” 

Herald sighed. “Oh, that’s right, you’re a genius. _Obviously_ it’s stuck in a permanent trance, idiot. Look, we can’t just stand here. The goal’s _right there.”_

“Remove that Rhinestone, and you’ll unleash Galathyn.” Abigor said. 

“I think we can handle Trajan’s little pet. I thought this story more of a lie than myth, but it’s clear now. The Almighty Keres must’ve used his second in command’s necklace as a lock, to seal away the blight brought by this Grimm. _Bigger, faster,_ and more _relentless_ than the rest, Galathyn remains in the minds of children, tales of its rage enough to keep them tucked away in their houses at night.” 

“And you want to _awaken_ it?” Troy gasped. 

“How bad can it be? It’s trapped in this cave, anyway. Anything to get the Rhinestone, right?” Without waiting for confirmation, Herald swiped the stone away. Immediately, the floor shook, every barren torch in the mine igniting with purple flames. 

As the bonds fell away, splashing into dust upon impact with the floor, the full scale of Galathyn was realized. The ceiling nearly caved in, the space unbelievably cramped given the situation. Each of the three marauders gulped. Mounting a fight in these conditions was impossible, and for the first time since its imprisonment, Galathyn _screamed._ It went ballistic, smashing its way towards the gate. 

“Watch out!” Abigor tackled his allies to safety. Galathyn was _gone._ Yet, more concerning was the gray mist that now creeped out into open air, turning the paradise of Summit’s Blight into an uncompromising land of storms. They followed the clouds outside cautiously. 

“Oh, thank the gods we’re alive.” Troy panted. 

Herald praised his new souvenir closely, analyzing every glimmer and _perfect_ oddity. “Yes! It’s mine! _It’s **all** mine!_ The things I’ll accomplish with the spoils of this Stone! _Kyradin will finally free me!”_

“What? No. It must be taken back to Eleanor.” Abigor demanded. 

“…Consider for yourself the sort of crisis this world would be subject to if the Rhinestone ended up in the wrong hands. Someone in the Coven craves that outcome. Keeping this thing _away_ from Xiasma is the smartest thing we could do, right now. I hate to be the one to say it, but Eleanor is playing you. Deep down, you _know_ I’m right.” 

Abigor watched the clouds expand beyond the ocean, their mistake becoming more drastic by the moment. _“Xiasma? What’s he talking about? Why does he desire this relic, so?”_

Then, something _clicked._ Herald’s concerning words throughout the day repeated in his head. _“’Once we get the stone, I’ll be free to carry out my goal in peace… The things I’ll accomplish with the spoils of this Stone...’”_ And then, Eleanor’s suspicions clarified everything. _“’You’re either desperate beyond reason, or insane, if you’re willing to give it up for a sword.’” ****_

Abigor quickly changed demeanors, readying his weaponry, cutting off Herald’s path. _“No! You want the Rhinestone so you can cheat Clotho’s Coven out of Tormentyst!”_

“Just couldn’t let it go, could you?” Herald, even without a weapon, managed to evade each and every sword wipe. Even his costume, passed down from the previous Old Fang beneficiary, remained untouched by the deadly blade. And when the opportunity presented itself, Abigor was rewarded with brutal fists and kicks. 

All of that changed once Troy intervened. True to his word, the merchant was no stranger to combat. Relatively inexperienced as he was, he must’ve learned from Abigor’s proverbs, as the dominance in numbers helped exponentially. 

It wouldn’t last. His approach relied on dust enhanced mobility, and after Herald _stopped time_ and clawed away the cloak holding Herald’s provincials, the field was once again evened. Both allies, frozen, were subject to gauntlet of rives. 

Abigor, in desperation, leapt away and attempted to signal the Seventh Brigade, with an incantation and flare gun. The Old Arts had no end of tricks, as teleportation let Herald cut that tactic short, with a nasty grapple to the floor. 

What followed could only be describe as a tactician’s dream. Both of them realized quickly that the bout could only be determined by planning and strategy. The slippery, slimy, sneaking Herald and the honor-marked example of human endurance made a good match. Of course, stamina was the time limit. 

Herald was skilled, but too young and impulsive. The advanced manipulation of time and space came at a price of _Aura._ In staving off Clotho’s Coven for so many years due to derangements for the Black Horsemen, he lacked the experience Abigor acquired in droves. Retreat was the only way out. 

“I-It doesn’t matter.” He reasoned. His limp slowly evolving into a run. **“I’ve** got the Rhinestone, now. _And if you try to stop me, I promise Trajan won’t wait sleeping much longer.”_

“Follow him!” Abigor gasped, trying to push the boulders knocked onto him aside for a much needed breath. Troy pursued, but a turn of the corner brought a complete dead end. 

“What? Impossible. Where did he go?” 

“Foul magic. Something big was just released. We can blame it for this insipid rain.” One of Galathyn’s roars sent a chill through their already numbing bodies. “We shouldn’t have come here. Herald was willing to do anything for _Tormentyst._ He knew what the _‘Grand Gatekeeper’_ was guarding. I’m betting he lied about the tablets brought to him, too. Were they even written by Kyradin Bael? I should’ve expected nothing less from the Old Fang, let alone a _Herald,_ with the gall to disbar himself from other Descendants out of _fear.”_

“So, what happens now?” Troy, despite his open surroundings, became dangerously claustrophobic at the concept of a shifting maze. 

“With Galathyn free, it seems this place no longer abides by the rules of reality. We’ve no choice but to move forward, and make it to the Coven before Herald. Perhaps that’s what he wanted all along: our entrapment. But it won’t work.” 

“Eleanor will come looking for us, right?” 

Abigor didn’t answer. But even now, as he struggled just to determine east from west, the thread keeping his allies together was in far worse condition. Eleanor wasn’t equipped to hunt the Rhinestone though she, and her peers, were eager to tackle a settlement thought untouched by maps. The path was set. _Perhaps among the reef-ridden sea of sunken ships and thunder, Artemis deduced, the dreaded Captain **Aku’s** death would bring answers. _

Entry No. 6 complete. 

This entry may be finished, but the Archive is not. 


	7. Birth of the Trajaneer's Conquest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There remains a Lord of Necrocysts, Odynavus, never to be seen without a rising sun at his back. There is no concept of victory against this being, no recourse, his will forever absolute, the power in his bones unfit to describe with mere prose. Perhaps, on this day, the undefeated streak of Odynavus's most prolific apprentice will finally be dissolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Founder Archives are available to read on Fanfiction.net as well, under the same name. Also, they are available on the Official Founder Archives website, FounderArchives.com.

_Entry 7: Birth of the Trajaneer's Conquest_

“Sister Artemis! I want you to know how thankful I am for this dinner.” Eleanor clapped. “How long has it been since we dined together in harmony?” 

“Too long. Trust me. Things have gotten so hectic around here, there’s just no time to bring us together like the good ol’ days. I just get so caught up in all this… _Stuff._ Believe me, this feast is long overdue.” 

“And, of course, this is preceding a _suicide mission_ into uncharted waters, past the borders of Remnant, where you believe **Aku** to be. Seems a little counter-intuitive, all in the name of _team training_ , and information gathering. But isn’t venturing into the Grimm’s den the equivalent of self-immolation?” She gestured to a wall marred with maps and notes, each of the traces pinpointing one unobserved whirlpool too far off the coast. It was clear from the obsessive scribblings who their target was. 

Artemis smiled. “I’ve already thought about this. The Captain’s Eidolon’s are out, searching for us. That means Aku is completely unguarded. It’s only a matter of time before he joins the hunt, so now’s the time to strike. If I’m right about my hunches and he’s waiting there alone, we’ll see if they can take six Silver-Eyed Warriors at once.” 

**“Six?”** Mania seemed taken aback. “So even Sister _Diana_ will join us? Isn’t that a little irresponsible? A Delphic of Aku’s reputation isn’t for the faint of heart. _I_ can at least admire their campaign of massacres, just for how gory they are, but it’s careless to expose a _child_ to it.” 

“I’m _not_ a child.” Diana insisted. Artemis quelled her worries. 

“I’ve given her _special_ instructions for this mission in private. Isn’t that right?” 

“Yes. The full extent of my power is to be used. I won’t hold back! I know it sounds crazy, but I’m almost excited. Or anxious. I can’t tell which!” 

“We all felt the same for our first big forte into Grimm slaughtering. You’ve had your fair share of invasions, but this is completely different. Be on your toes.” 

“But that comes later tonight!” Eleanor cheered. “First, it’s time to set the table. Sister Mania! Would you be so kind as to place the silverware?” 

_“Oh, it would be my pleasure!”_ She gave an overenthusiastic reply in a high-pitched voice. Upon confusion over why she slammed down the cutlery with such force and precision, she simply responded, “Practice.” 

Nobody even realized Styx had _joined_ the conversation until she started _speaking._ “Something smells good in here. What’s on the menu? Finally decided to cook up some blackened vultures, eh?” 

“Ah! I would _never!”_ Artemis retrieved the roasted pig from an archaic oven, powered by wooden logs. “Be a dear and carve this thing, will you? And Sister Mania? Do you have to put down the silverware with such zest? You’re going to break the table.” 

“I don’t understand.” She admitted, slamming down another fork and rattling the platters of sides. “This is how I do everything.” 

“Can we eat already?” Eos huffed, outshining Mania by shaking the entire _table_ just by sitting. “I’m starving.” 

“You’re always starving.” 

“Don’t fuss!” Styx accurately hacked the main course into chunks, her precise twirl of knives not only carving the meal, but rocketing every piece onto the nearby plates. She couldn’t help bowing at the applause. 

“Wait!” Artemis had to stop Eos from cleaning the plate in seconds. “Have you forgotten so soon? First, a prayer. Hold out your hands…. _I revere our goddess, Lady Clotho, for the blessings bestowed upon our shelter. Thank you, for the bounty set before us by thou. It is through our allegiance that Remnant may rest, everlasting. Inculto.”_ Each of them repeated the last word. “Dig in.” 

Hardly was it a _quiet_ affair. The halls were abound with hurrahs, and conversation, though plentiful, sat completely secondary to constant joking and toasts. 

Mania was caught in the middle of one of her stories. “It’d already been a few hours since the hunt began. Therefore, I was stuck wearing Grimm pelts due to the cold, even over my face. So, I was too constricted to use weapons. I couldn’t even _talk.”_

“Thank god.” Styx rolled her eyes, encouraged by giggling. 

“Point is, a group of townspeople found me, and thought I was an _Ursa._ So what do I do? I raise my arms and start jumping, but of course that just makes them _more_ scared. I looked like a pincushion by the time I hit the floor. _Felt_ like one, too. Probably one of the most humiliating experiences of the last century.” 

“What did you say when they finally pulled off the costume and saw you were a _person?”_

_“’Shoot me again.’”_

More howling. As Diana laughed, her visor bounced up, and an arc of white energy zapped a set of knives across the room, into the disembodied head of a Boarbatusk mounted on the wall. Silence followed, then more laughter. 

“Haha! _Hey!_ You gotta save some of that for _Aku,_ I’m telling you!” Mania nudged her shoulder, while _she_ could only reply by blushing. “Ugh. I forgot why none of you sat next to Sister Eos. This is like the wet and wild zone, right now.” 

“First time?” Eleanor said in true tedium, another splash of soup bouncing off the left side of her suit. 

“Mhm! Sorry.” Eos wiped her mouth and slammed down a mug. 

“Say… Is that ale?” Mania reached for the pitcher.  


“Of course. Some sort of bounty award from Abigor. Guy couldn’t stomach a _shot_ of it. That’s a lightweight for you.” 

“I’m telling him you said that.” Eleanor remarked. 

“Why? _None_ of you could hold your drinks.” 

_“Here we go again.”_

**_“Can too!”_** Mania instantly poured herself an overflowing stein, and within seconds, the binge for supremacy commenced. 

“Ack! That’s disgusting!” Styx started gagging, and immediately backed away from the table. “Why does this stuff always have to smell so repulsive?” 

“Trust me, it _tastes_ about as good.” While Mania and Eos competed to see who would pass out first, Eleanor reached for a hatchet on the table, and whispered to Diana, 

_“Psst! Wanna see something cool?”_

“Oh? S-Sure.” 

“Watch this. I’ve been practicing my aim.” She chucked the hatchet across the atrium towards a target board. Hardly experienced in this area, she couldn’t have been more off the mark. But since it scooped a hunk off meat off Artemis’ fork, she was able to partially save face. “Uh… See? I-I _meant_ to do that.” 

“Have you gone insane? You could’ve taken out my eye.” Their leader admonished. 

“That’ll be the day… ” 

Far past midnight, the only thing to suggest anyone had ever been in the dinette at all were the still smoking candles and plates stacked upon each other, topped with fresh crumbs and bones. Demeter, drenched with sea water, slammed open the doors with the Heirloom drawn. Quickly, she gathered the Coven’s plans, now scared for _them_ at the realization of their quest. _“W-What? Foolishness. You should have told me you were going to fight **him.”** _ ****

Soon, she left to her new mediator, the scrawled sketches of Artemis in hand. “Did you tell them?” Abigor wheezed, completely exhausted from the trek back from Summit’s Blight, the sprint from the Keraseer Kingdom more taxing than usual. He knew one such as himself, a _human,_ could not pass through to warn them himself. Requesting Demeter was a stroke of genius. 

“They weren’t there. They’ve left, to find Aku. See?” 

“…We’ve got to follow them. What Herald’s planning is important enough, but I can’t watch them risk so much. If anything were to happen to Eleanor, and I wasn’t there…” 

“I need no convincing. Hope you’re still alright to sail another expedition.” 

_“Ah. Yeah, just, give me a moment to catch my breath. Tonight’s going to be a **long** night.” _ Abigor said. __

They both turned to see Troy arrive, the door to his carriage automatically ajar. _“No need. Hop aboard, folks.”_

Across the seas, past the reefs, a single ancient lighthouse matched up with the Coven’s estimations. On the lookout for the Falsus Heredis, they were happy to finally dock. Anything to escape the inhospitable weather. But the humid, roasting maze inside the landmark wasn’t too much of an improvement. And it seemed to prey on groups, always threatening to isolate someone with the confusing layout. 

“I was excited for a change of scenery. Now, I’m not so sure.” Mania quipped. 

“Just be proud we made it.” Eleanor pat her shoulder. “We’re so far off the beaten path, it’s scary. And exciting, I’ll admit. We’re more than explorers, now. We’re _discovers.”_

“Come to think of it… Who else could’ve done it? Without our combined skills, it’s impossible. Pretty sweet, I must say, but it reminded me of something. Where we are now, is it the territory of _Odynavus?”_

Artemis answered. “Can’t say for sure. Not that it matters. The madman is only a threat if we parked our boat in his path- and there’s a whole ocean out there. Why is that, Sister Diana? Pop quiz!” 

“Oh, I know!” Styx accepted an invitation for someone else. “He circles Remnant daily, pulling the sun around our world, his footsteps perfectly harmonized with every second that passes. If he stops, so does time. So, he’ll never let _anything_ halt his stride. If our boat’s in his way, he’ll smash through it without missing a beat and march to the horizon. Neither human, faunus, nor Grimm, he’s almost beyond myth. See? _I_ studied!” 

“…Thank you, Sister _Diana.”_ She scolded. “Hold on. Where is she, anyway? Did no one keep track of her!?” 

“I thought you were doing that.” 

“Ugh! Split up and find her at once!” 

Diana wasn’t concerned, based on the pep talks and promises of dormancy regarding their enemies. It wasn’t often that she could wander unshackled by rules, and in so unique a cavern too, as disgusting it may be. The walls oozed of seawater, bolstered by a rancid odor worse than Grimm. 

None of them realized that something _else_ was searching, too. Diana, completely disoriented, cowered at the sound of _clops._ She knew what it meant. A grossly horrendous humanoid saddled upon a Grimm horse must’ve been nearby. “Oh no… I should’ve taken Sister Styx up on that stealth offer… _Shhh!”_ Hoping to avoid it, she sat amongst the cover of stalagmites, covering her mouth, hyperventilating.

The Eidolon must’ve savored her anxiety. It crumbled her hiding spot and squealed in delight. Unlike any she’d ever been told of, this rider _oozed_ of seaweed, and fought with a sharp paddle. Running from those on horseback seemed idiotic, but now she couldn’t _hide,_ either. 

“W-Wait! Stop! Don’t come near me!” Diana cried out. In a hysteric frenzy, against everything she’d been told, she rose her mask and relied on the unreal power inside. 

The Skeletal Dragoon impulsively blocked, collected the laser into a ball within its palm, and _reflected_ it. Diana screamed. One flash of light, and she was fossilized, encased in solid material, unable to move. This was a rare opportunity for an Eidolon to satisfy the cravings of itself, and its confederates, without conflict. It raised the paddle, licking its lips. 

A mirror-like shield warped into reality, cutting off the Eidolon from its prey. Tilting its head in fear, at the sight of an Oathkeeper clad in bloody rags, it slowly lashed the horse away. Not long after, the stone keeping Diana in place faded away. She spoke once her heart stopped thumping. 

“Thank you, truly. You’ve saved my life. I must repay you, somehow. Who… Who are you?” 

**_“My faunus name is Kalthus. And you must be Diana, the Coven Light. With an Aura like that, it’s unmistakable. You are a powerful warrior indeed, and an unyielding force for good.”_ **

“Thank you. But… I’d still like to know who you are. What are you doing here?” 

**_“I am looking for, as you see, the other side of this Rhinestone.”_ ** The gem floated into view. **_“The Beryl Whetstone belonged to Trajan, and its connection with the Beryl Rhinestone was a sign of unity. Once they were separated, the War of the Second Bewitchment was all but confirmed. This is no ordinary stone, by any manner of means. It is, in fact, an ancient relic left by Clotho. It is not only unmistakable in appearance, it is undeniably pivotal to my quest. If you, or any of your sisters come into contact with the Beryl Whetstone, I hope you the foresight to alert me at once.”_ **

“You have the Rhinestone? Turn around. You don’t have silver eyes, do you?” 

**_“Ahahaha!”_** Her request revealed to her a sight of orange eyes. **_“You have an extraordinary gift, Diana. It is not something to take lightly. I’m nowhere near that fortunate, I’m afraid.”_ **

Diana breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry. I was just worried you could have been Xiasma… A-Actually, I’m not supposed to tell anyone outside the Coven, unless they’re a Descendant. Like Herald.” 

**_“Hm, hm! I can certainly attest to that. Clotho would be proud to see her children adhere to her will in such a manner. If you may, will you give her my best regards?”_ **

“You knew Lady Clotho?” 

The distance between the two grew as the discussion progressed. **_“As it would seem. I know of her, at the very least. It has been a long journey since. And much more to go, I’m certain. Those are fables best left for another time. The Rhinestone she left has not yet attained full power, but it has regained much of its potential. The same is happening to everything that held devotion to Clotho. Even us.”_ **

“So you _do_ know her!” 

**_“I did. How could we not? Even after she left, we never stopped remembering. In regards to the gods, her presence is consistent. Some came and went. Yet, even after all this years, very soon, Clotho will feel like an old friend, who’s just been missing for a season.”_ **

“Is that what you’re up to? Bringing her back? I know she, Lord Keres, and Lady Hestia have been missing for a while. Sister Artemis won’t let me know why, yet. It’s not fair! I _deserve_ to know. What was Lady Clotho like?” Diana asked, eager. First-hand accounts of the gods were rare, if indeed real at all. 

**_“…Hmph. Can you keep a secret?”_** She nodded in excitement, leaning in to hear what she assumed would be confidential information, best relayed in whispers. **_“…So can I.”_**

“Sister Diana!” The rest of them called out, stumbling upon the scene. They saw only her. “You’re alright. Did anything happen?” 

“There was an Eidolon here, but I… I avoided it. It wasn’t easy. Pretty impressive, huh? I-I stopped one all by myself.” Her lie was met with minimal suspicion. Though it didn’t completely add up, Artemis prevented any scrutiny, with a signal for them to stand still. 

Her spine chilled, though it wasn’t the dim, web-ridden corridors or abysmal smell to thank. “I can sense it. Be careful. Down this hall, there is something… Unnatural. Worse than Grimm.” 

Forming a circle, they slowly treaded down the darkest chasm of caves which were occasionally marked by prehistoric architecture, and rows of torches which ignited at any approach. The end of the tunnel brought a forum. 

In the center of a stone coliseum lined with cages that held only hay, a seventh knight mistaken to be a _statue_ kneeled. The armor held a sinister resemblance to that of a Keraseer. Could _this_ be Aku? Cautiously, they all advanced, and Diana slowly lifted Tormentyst. Meeting air, it made an easily recognized whirling sound. The figure stood up, his back to the Coven. 

**_“Tormentyst?”_** The stranger identified. _“Have I **really** been indulged? On **this** night, six descendants have presented themselves to me. Let this moment be forever etched in history. Oh, this is beautiful. I may now indulge in another Corrupt Pact, at long last, and with little time to spare no less. Have you come to negotiate with me, or **kill** me?” _

_“That depends.”_ Artemis boomed. _“Are you the Captain of the Falsus Heredis? Harbinger of the Black Horsemen, the Eidolons? Descendant slayer who wields the Thornscourge blade, worshipped by none, feared by all?”_

_“…That depends.”_ He turned in full, his echoing voice, and fiendishly primal but uniform mail bringing the less willful heroes to shiver. His sword was still embedded in the floor. _“It seems I’m not feared by **you.** Is this truly the drudges of Clotho’s Coven?” _

_“You do as you’re told!”_ Eos stomped forward, her axe _almost_ intimidation enough. 

**_“…I am Aku, the Trajaneer.”_**

Artemis explained. _“You are guilty of hubris, sedition, and deicide. For your crimes, we will grant a swift execution. There is no appeal.”_

_“My only crime is appeasing my benevolent master. You are guilty of the same. But to have six Descendants here, and no Eidolons to cut them down? It’s almost as though the Coven were **made** for a **Corrupt Pact,** here and now.” _

“W-What’s he talking about?” Diana’s voice shook. These were sinful secrets withheld not by _Clotho,_ so Artemis was obliged to answer. 

“The _Corrupt Pact_ is the only path to immortality besides the Forgotten Tears. It is the height of blasphemy to even _attempt_ such a thing. All it requires is knowledge, blood, four of us, and _one_ of _him._ Logic would dictate he’s already carried out the forbidden spell once before.” 

“He doesn’t mean to try it now, with us, does he?” 

“He won’t. He _can’t.”_ Mania cracked her knuckles. 

“Let’s give him hell.” Styx sulked to the outer ring of the arena, ready to be forgotten. 

“He calls himself the _Trajaneer.”_ Eleanor noted, still in a combat stance. “Who are you, really?” 

_Aku replied. “A very determined Delphic. Now, prepare yourselves. Remnant has not forgotten my last **Corrupt Pact.** But the clock never stopped ticking. Once again, dark forces have brought our kind together. The time has come for good and evil to clash once again, and none can say who will remain when it is done.” _

Quickly, it was gathered that the usual teamwork and tactics wouldn’t work here, as Aku countered everything, even when flanked from every angle. His reputation held up. Mania’s most ferocious scythe attacks were staved off like an agitating breeze. Eleanor’s eloquent footwork, mixed with Eos’s crushing strength, did nothing but humor him. 

It wasn’t until Styx dropped in from above did he take damage for the first time, to her elation. “Aha! You’re just a _Delphic,_ vying for power like the rest. You will **never** reawaken Trajan!” 

_“You do not know everything, coven witch. Your queen gave you an invaluable tool, but it’s wasted on you. I’ll be sure to harvest your eyes, if not as a trophy, than as a weapon more fit for battle than you’ll ever be.”_ He said. Soon, all but Artemis and Diana were drained. They had a plan of their own, and it relied on a passive approach. With patience, they’d find Aku just as worn out as their allies. 

_“Hya!”_ Artemis let loose a volley of insurmountable arrows, of which Thornscourge was incapable of blocking in its entirety. _“Now!”_

Not only did Diana _lift_ her visor, she slipped off the entire helmet. All anyone could see was _white._ A light triumphing in scores over the sun spread forth in every direction, shattering the walls and blinding even those who looked away. Aku slowed to a stop, attempting to cover his eyes. Her scowl petrified him, turning both him, his weapon, and his armor to stone. 

“Quickly! Raise Tormentyst, and strike him!” 

Diana fought to even _lift_ it, but with the encouragement of her friends, she managed to slam it down, with her target directly in the power arc. If only she were faster. Despite everything, the stone encasing him was broken in just a few seconds, and Aku stopped her pathetic swing by enclosing his fingers around the blade itself, giving Diana a boot to the stomach. They all waited curiously, even Diana, who braced herself. 

_“Intriguing.”_ Aku uttered, watching how his hand steamed just from gripping Tormentyst. _“The sword’s viability adjusts with its wielder. I must be **so** unworthy, mere contact is a painful sin… Hahaha! Nobody’s going to attack? Did you expect me to **use** the sword? I’d be incinerated in an instant. No thanks.” He chucked it outside the ring. _

“We won’t need magic for that.” A newcomer announced. 

_“Abigor!? What are you doing?”_ Eleanor berated, while Demeter went to work on her artificial nemesis, the Trajaneer a sworn enemy of the Keraseers despite a lack of a personal history between the two pupils. “You’ve taken it too far. If I wanted you here, I’d have _asked._ It’s too dangerous! Leave, now.” 

“I promised you if it ever came to this, I’d be here to help. You can’t stop me.” 

_“Know your place! This is beyond you. It is not your fight! To bring not only yourself, but Troy to the dangerous frontline as well? You disappoint me!”_

_“It’s my choice, Eleanor. Remember that.”_ He moved in to great effect, stalemating where others expected complete failure. Eleanor had no choice but to set aside her reservations, and swoop in to parry a slice that would’ve gravely injured him. Together, Abigor and Eleanor corrected each other’s faults, knocking Aku off balance. 

She might’ve been wrong, in fact. Suddenly susceptible to attacks, he was decimated by everyone, from every angle. All said and done, the first mistake he made, he lost too much Aura, and the feral assault brought him to his knees. 

Aku kneeled. _“Argh! I… I suppose it can’t be helped. Master…”_ He stood up, and raised the deadly Thornscourge. The deafening chant began. _“Odynavus! Caliph of **Dusk and Dawn!** Keeper of **Time and War! Lend me your power!”** _

In this heightened state, the slits of Aku’s helmet were set ablaze with flame, and his once immutable sword could be swung like a whip, the metal disobeying common sense. _“A weak link in the armor!”_ He was attuned with some sort of improved, ethereal sight; the lapses of his assailants’ defenses were highlighted. None could enter his radius unharmed. Even his _form_ was improved, the pattern of his steps carefully synced with attacks. 

Demeter was the only one to rebound from this terrible onslaught, believing the cooldown of Aku’s torrent to be an opening. If only she could break his _Aura,_ victory was assured. 

He disarmed her immediately, took the Keraseer Heirloom whilst twisting behind her, and then shoved it through her chest from behind, ignoring Aura. After all, he only needed _four_ alive. Aku tossed her, Heirloom included, away like trash. _“This is not the first time I’ve spilled Keraseer blood.”_

“Lady Demeter! _No!”_ Artemis dashed over to her body, frantic for any sort of response. 

Aku snapped his fingers to summon from a mythical gyre his own personal steed. _“Hahahaha. I did not wish to kill you like this. I seek only a Corrupt Pact, yet you six are **incorruptible** together. Remember. What I’ve done- the death toll in my name? It is only at the bidding of my master. I still have time before my previous pact expires. Our fight for **that** cause is not yet meant to take place. **I will return.”** _

_“You coward! I’ll kill you! I’ll torture you for an eternity!”_ Artemis charged after him. Even if she _could_ stop Aku’s leisure exit into the portal, _Eos_ eliminated the possibility. 

_“He cannot be beat. Not here, not yet… Troy, stop!”_

In an uncharacteristic move, perhaps out of a chance for glory, Troy stepped in to grapple away Thornscourge. 

“Brave of you.” Aku chirped, swatting him away without trouble. _“Never has a human attempted such petulance, and **this** is proof why. Thank you, my new enemies, for revealing to me your youth: the target of my next conquest.” _ With his decree, he vanished. 

“Is she…?” Diana joined the rest alongside Demeter’s body 

“Dead.” Artemis almost wept. “Another prodigy, lost to that monster… This time, we could’ve stopped it! We’ve failed!” 

“That is not helping.” Eos used the axe to pull herself up. 

“You… You let him get away.” Artemis seethed. “And I saw what you did. You had a chance to stab Aku, and you held back. _You showed mercy to a Delphic. This is **your** fault!” _

“Sister Eos didn’t do this. Aku did.” Styx said, helping Troy off the ground. 

“No, she’s **half** correct.” Eos stopped Eleanor from also retorting. “I _did_ hesitate on what could’ve been a critical hit. But you’re all too hotheaded. Your passion blinds you. Think for a moment, outside the fight at hand. If there was even a chance Aku had secret knowledge concerning the return of Trajan, it’s worth sparing him for questioning. After all, who else besides the so-called _Trajaneer_ would know something we don’t?” 

“She’s right.” Abigor said. “By the gods, she’s right. I know this doctrine too well.” 

“Look what that amazing _doctrine’s_ left us!” Mania played the opposition, pointing at the deceased Descendant. “You spared a _Delphic!_ Did you expect us **not** to label you Xiasma after that, _‘Sister’_ Eos!?” She clenched her scythe, furious. 

_“I think the most compelling action for a traitor **now** would be to turn on their friends so quick. Wouldn’t you? Now, **back down.”** _

_“Enough, you two!”_ Artemis embraced Demeter’s prone body. “Oh, gods. I’m so, so sorry… What am I going to tell Sir Orthus? What about her _daughters?”_

Eleanor consoled her, Abigor’s support preventing her own tears. The two hugged. “We’ll tell them _together._ And we’ll bring the body and armor back, for a proper funeral. Just like the last time something like this happened. C’mon, guys. Don’t lose hope so quick. B-Back me up, Sister Artemis.” 

Desperate for a sign of leadership, Eleanor was alarmed to see her oldest mentor simply carry Demeter away, uncaring whether or not the Coven followed. 

Entry No. 7 complete. 

This entry may be finished, but the Archive is not. 


	8. Wraith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An oath is but an idea, with even the closest bonds subject to the rot of atrophy's decay. And when it all comes crashing down, who will be the one to hold a blade to our hero's back? Could it be the mentor, Artemis? Or, perhaps, the student, Diana. How about the closest and most trusted friend: Wraith?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Founder Archives are available to read on Fanfiction.net as well, under the same name. Also, they are available on the Official Founder Archives website, FounderArchives.com.

_Entry 8: Wraith_

Artemis was completely exhausted, consumed most of all by fear of those _tablets_ which presaged an apocalyptic crisis. And now, _vengeance_ had been added to the mix. Aku was gone, but she’d pinpointed his location without a lead once before. To avenge a Keraseer, she’d do it again. 

“Sister Artemis? I-It’s alright. It’s just me.” Diana inquisitively entered the chateau, where the murals reached their highest and the walls were polished to perfection. “I was just curious… Are you doing okay?” 

“What? Of course. Please, don’t worry about a thing.” She was thankful her helmet hid the bags under her eyes. She had opted not to rest during the last new moon. Every hour that ticked by without resolution was one that shouldn’t be wasted. She couldn’t sleep, anyway. 

“Are you sure?” 

“…Thank you for asking. I’ll manage just fine. But you see, the more time that passes without action on our part, the greater a threat Trajan _will_ pose.” 

“I know, I know. But remember, I’m still stuck on the _Herald Transcripts_. Am I allowed to know why we can’t just _stop_ Trajan? You guys are the greatest warriors in Remnant, right?” 

_“You are, too…”_ Artemis swept aside her mountain of graphs and paid full attention to the question. “But it’s a little more complicated than that. And we _are_ in a situation never discussed in law. Perhaps it’s against standard procedure, but… With how splintered we are, this may be the first steps of fixing things. Okay.” 

“I’ll keep it a secret!” 

“The **War of the Second Bewitchment** was _technically_ a success for us, the good guys- you should’ve known _that_ by now. But it came at price only high ranking Descendants comprehend. Lord Keres, Lady Hestia, and Lady Clotho had no choice, so in keeping us safe and exiling one god, they had to sacrifice _themselves,_ too. There was no way to figure out the fourth of their council was a Delphic, and in allowing him to carry on in this way, Trajan could return with revenge in his soul. All gods paid for the sins of just _one.”_

Diana tilted her head. “But isn’t _Kyradin Bael_ still here? Wasn’t he the fifth and final member of the High Council? What let _him_ live through the Second Bewitchment?” 

“The Arbiter is the only _faunus_ who resided among the four. Neither divine nor mortal, it seems he predated us all. One can only guess what life was like back then.” 

“What do you mean?” 

In order to better lay out the lore, she started sketching out the events on a sheet of parchment. “The First Bewitchment was brought on by two primordial beings, the _Dark Brothers,_ who grew wary of mankind’s love of warfare and betrayal. So, naturally, they brought an _end_ to civilization. Four gods were left in the event something- _anything,_ remained. But Lord Keres, Lady Hestia, Lady Clotho, and Trajan would go on to destroy _themselves,_ too. Kyradin Bael was never meant to exist beyond the First Bewitchment.” 

Diana gasped. _“You mean to tell me he’s from the age of the Dark Brothers?”_

“…I would guess, indeed. Don’t you see? The start of three bloodlines had to forfeit their endless lives, and one Relic, to eradicate Trajan when he tried to replicate his creator’s greatest spell.” Artemis stood up. Simply describing what she already knew was enough to accelerate her heartbeat. “Should he ever come back, three of **us** would need to do the same. Only a Descendant is ripe for the banishing ritual, _and if we do not stop him, he will summon onto Remnant the **Third** Bewitchment. _ Not only was the location of every Relic scattered at the end of the War for the _Second_ Bewitchment, nobody in Clotho’s Coven is to die. I won’t allow it!” 

“But if so, humanity will perish. W-What do we do?” 

The answer gave Artemis a reinvigorated sense of passion. There was no chance of throwing in the towel, now. “We won’t let Trajan return! There are but three things to do. Discover Xiasma! Retrieve the Rhinestone, or Whetstone, and destroy them! And place the elusive **_Forgotten Brazier_** under strict lock and key! One _cannot_ resurrect Trajan without that missing shrine.” 

Mania, cradling something obscured with a bundle of cloth, slowly approached. “I thought this information was reserved for those who’ve reached the _highest_ levels of Kingdom Lore. Why tell the youngest now?” 

“What? What difference does it make, at this point? She needs to know.” 

“Weren’t you the _strictest_ when it came to honoring the code? Only those most devoted to the Coven are worthy of its puzzles, and Diana is far too young for you to impart knowledge of this esteem. Look, when something doesn’t add up, it’s almost always subterfuge.” 

“As always, you’re the only one who can be right about something…” Artemis grumbled. “Times have changed, Sister. Descendants are **dying,** and the Trajaneer is still free. The _‘code’_ has been suspended until we can get this situation under control. It’s my duty to keep us together, and that’s final.” 

Diana tried to diffuse the situation. Had Mania not pressed onward, she would’ve succeeded. “I-It’s alright. I’ll catch up with the books really quickly, I promise!” 

“But you can’t just _break_ a cherished tradition. Nobody has that right- not even you. What’s going on here, really? Don’t lie, now. This is important.” 

Artemis mocked the very concept, waving away Mania. “Are you accusing me of being Xiasma, again? Please. The implications that I would aid Trajan is profane. It’s _ridiculous._ It’s **_heresy,_** of the highest order! I started the Coven.” 

“…No, you didn’t. Lady Clotho did.” 

“But **I** was the _first-“_

_“And you are **not** the first member.”_ Mania dumped the contents of her bag onto the ground, a pile of never before seen books spilling open. Most of them were stamped with the sigil of Grimm. “Mind explaining why these were hidden for so many centuries?” 

“You were in my room!?” Artemis’ frantically attempted to scoop the texts up and off the shining floor. 

“So, you’re not above keeping secrets. Traitorous, I’d say. How about _you,_ Sister Diana? Her plot starts with putting the title of Xiasma on me, doesn’t it? But you forgot _one_ thing. I’m **smarter-** _much_ smarter, than any of you. I’ll put a stop to this before it can even begin.” 

_“Watch your tone, Sister Mania.”_ Artemis commanded. Her stature grew larger, and her voice suddenly echoed. _“Never before has war been waged with me, or any member of the Coven, in this sanctuary. Cease this madness at once.”_

Diana tried a second time. “Wait, please! We can still fix this! I’m sorry!” Again, she was denied by Mania. 

“Get behind me, Diana. This ends with her! She’s the traitor!” The Scythe was brandished. “For you see, the contents of these books is enough to ruin you, Artemis. _Shame if word of them were to ever leave this room._ I’m disgraced myself, and _I’m_ not the one who overthrew the **true** first member of the Coven, and hid away every record of him: _A man, by the name of Agramon? Ring any bells?”_

**_“Silence!”_** Artemis screamed, aiming her bow and firing in less time than Mania could reasonably react. The arrow whizzed past a startled Diana, and struck her in the shoulder, driving her into one of the lavish dining thrones. 

Everyone else, at the first sign of discord, blasted through the doors with their weapons ready. Immediately, Eleanor had seen enough, already drawing conclusions. _“Sister Artemis! Have you lost your mind!?”_

Even the _black vultures_ waited an uncomfortable amount of time for an answer. “I… Perhaps I _have._ Forgive me.” Artemis nearly dropped her bow, now sprinting away, shaking. 

“Wait!” Eleanor was ready to give chase. “Are you guys going to help, or just stand there?” None could deny the implications of Artemis using her weapon on another outside of training, except Eos, who followed to the gossip of the rest. 

Once outside, Abigor was the only one who could get her to halt. Equipped with only a bouquet meant for Demeter, he expected an expedient trip. But Eleanor had to take a break from running, anyway. “Is there something the matter?” 

“It’s Sister Artemis. Something pushed her to turn on us, and now she’s gone. She might be the traitor. I don’t know, anymore.” 

“What? She _just_ ran past me. Wouldn’t even _answer_ me. Calm down.” 

“No. I have to see where she goes. Leave me.” 

“Hold on a moment. Think about this rationally. She’ll return on her own terms-” Abigor said. 

_“Leave me alone!”_ She broke away and continued following the tracks. Eos didn’t acknowledge him, and did the same. Eleanor could hold her own well enough, as an assailant, but fighting remained a dangerous prospect without someone to play defense. She prayed Artemis wouldn’t force her hand. 

Abigor sighed, rolled his eyes, and then continued the chase himself. The flowers stayed behind. 

He kept on their trail, whistling, fighting off insects, eventually skipping stones when Eleanor spent a few minutes investigating an isolated Nomadic Outpost, feverishly stoking the feeling of monotony. “Why don’t you try talking to the _birds,_ huh?” 

“Her vultures are gone.” Eos claimed. “Either she’s called them off, or they’re no longer hers to control. Neither options bode well.” 

“Ever notice how it’s always a _terrible curse,_ or a _dire plot,_ or something _‘doesn’t bode well.’_ Nobody ever says _‘Oh, Abigor, my dearest friend, we thank you for constant loyalty, and we offer you ten-thousand gold on **this** day, where there will most certainly **not** be a terrible tragedy.’_ Funny how that is, right?” 

“…I could state your suggestion right _now,_ if you’d like.” 

Abigor shook his head, now bemused. “If only words held such value. How about you? We just need a good break. A good _day.”_

“If I dwelled on each day that went by, I’d have gone insane before half-time of the first year. I live for the hour, more or less. So, you could say it’s been a rough _hour._ I’m too old for this, literally.” She explained, bringing him to chuckle. _“Stop laughing.”_

“That reminds me. There was something at the lost lair of _Aku-”_

_“Do not say that name.”_

Abigor flinched for show. “Aha. The lair of _that Delphic._ I came to help, but also to tell you something really important.” 

“It can wait.” When bored, which was most of the time, Eos’ habit of speaking in forceful, choppy sentences never grew old. 

“I’m… Not so sure. Herald is _not_ the good friend you see him as. This entire time, he’s been using connections to gain dominance over Tormentyst. We _found_ the Beryl Rhinestone, only to have him abuse the _‘Old Arts’_ so he could run away with it. I can only guess where it’s gone at this point, and even though its _location’s_ changed, Herald’s goals likely haven’t.” 

“Impossible.” Eos said. 

“But it’s true, and that’s bad news for us. Troy could tell you himself. I learned firsthand the use of these Relics. Don’t you see? Herald actually _found_ one, set a Grimm the size of a building free, and challenged _Troy and me,_ all to steal **Tormentyst.** Isn’t this important? The Rhinestone is in play, and Diana could be in danger.” 

Eleanor interrupted. “She is locked in a fortress with two guardians at the front gate. For now, _nothing_ is more important than Sister Artemis’ safe return. It’s not that I don’t believe you, but all we can do is divide and conquer. We’ll organize an investigation into Herald as soon as we’re all together again.” 

“Then, mind clueing me in? What _did_ Artemis do?” Abigor said. 

“She attacked us! Is it really that hard to understand?” 

“Well, yeah. Nothing like this has ever happened before. _Why_ did she do it?” 

Eleanor stopped, now shouting in a cloudy, abandoned town of dead champions. Pieces of their armor were scattered along the dry land. Artemis’ tracks had all but vanished, and now they were only wandering aimlessly. “I don’t know! Now go. How many times do I have to tell you? _This is no longer your concern._ I should’ve kept you out of this the _moment_ Trajan entered the picture.” 

“What is it, huh? Is it because I’m _human?_ We were given choice for a reason, Eleanor. None can deny that, even if born with blood like yours.” Abigor crossed him arms. 

“It was **I** who kept your kind safe till this point. It was _us_ who allowed you to get _this_ far, to escape the persecution of Grimm. Hundreds of years of wisdom and experience, and _still_ you fools question our leadership. _This is beyond you. Abandon your pride!”_

Before he could provide an answer, a Grimm offered one of its own. The terrible growl signaled a foe beyond the likes of a simple Beowolf. Instinctively, the three formed a triangular formation, and Abigor slid Eos’ spiritual dagger into his hands, leaving his sword with his men with the intention of a _peaceful_ voyage. He should’ve kept his expectations in check. _“…Without pride, we are nothing but meat, waiting until it’s time to become worms in the ground. This is not living. You should learn that, now.”_

Of the chest pieces and leggings and _chainmail_ skewed about, some of each swirled around, creating a hurricane of steel, only to come together above them and crash down. Thankfully they dodged, but the elements of a warrior came together thereafter, and a ghoul knight with no physical body rose from the dust. 

“I see. We’ve fought this enemy once before. It has terrorized these lands for far too long. It’s the same Grimm from the Keraseer Kingdom.” Abigor studied his opponent relentlessly, spotting the emblem of a Geist. 

_“Lady Demeter…”_ Eleanor remembered very well, and used those awful memories as ammunition. 

The suit of armor assembled correctly at first, but would send pieces of itself in random directions at undeterminable intervals, until eventually the battle morphed into an unconventional game of dodging aimless metal. The break in pattern was sudden, the humanoid strategy returning, accentuated with the use of rusted pikes or maces from the corpses of those whose body wasn’t desecrated. And here, they thought they’d seen it all. 

The Grimm eventually managed this confusion into a flurry that took away Eleanor’s aura, and threw her into Eos. It caught Eleanor’s ageless sword and bent it into a ball of twisted metal. Though greatly amused, the _owner_ of the weapon cried out in horror. 

Abigor took the chance, slashing with all his might from behind. Not willing to be outdone, the armor dodged instinctively, losing limbs in order to preserve its symbol- the weak spot of any Geist. Eos finally recovered, overjoyed at the sounds of tearing alloy. But when she looked over, she witnessed the ruse in full, as the other piles of plating came under a dark influence and restrained Abigor. 

“No. My axe!” She fumbled around in trepidation, spotting it under a mountain of enchanted gloves. It seemed more than _one_ outfit could be haunted, and this tactic would stall long enough. 

Abigor could only stare down his enemy, as the Geist revealed itself and ensnared a gooey web around his body. _“Wait! Stop! N-No! I have so much more to give!”_ Too late. Apathetic to begging, the archfiend absorbed what was left of any constitution. 

As Abigor _died,_ the Geist’s mind wandered, and suddenly it favored a _new_ form, choosing to channel inside his body. With countless lifespans of experience, and a host as formidable as Abigor _was,_ the Wraith was born- a horrific combination of man and Grimm at both their best. Eleanor screamed, trying to deny what was happening. The nightmare progressed. So enamored with the prospect of a human vessel, the Geist had no plans to _ever_ leave. 

“You must make a stand!” Eos hauled Eleanor up. They could both cry _later._ “Abigor is no more, but he will _not_ be forgotten. Do you hear me, Eleanor? Without you, neither of us will survive. Make good of his sacrifice. _Wake up. Wake up! Please.”_

First, Wraith **screeched.** This was a power not felt since its inception. Eos let Eleanor wallow in misery, and braced for impact. Her powerful strikes extended the duel, but her greatest asset of unmatched dexterity was rendered useless against Wraith’s new claws. _Nothing_ could withstand them, and her aura depleted in seconds. 

The tipping point came when Wraith _slithered through the walls,_ and grappled for the weapon. Eos almost laughed. She’d been outmatched the entire fight, but now her enemy had focused all efforts on raw _strength,_ where she reigned absolutely supreme. Shortly, Eos let the rage inside, and pushed back with everything, roaring. There, she fell into the trap. 

The Geist retreated for but a moment, leaving Abigor’s limp body as a scarecrow. It swooped around, and jammed its nails into Eos’ back. 

“No!” She pleaded, falling to her knees. The Wraith loomed overhead and graciously licked its lips with an elongated, dripping tongue. 

_“Die!”_ Eleanor stabbed it repeatedly through the back with Eos’ polearm, gritting her teeth at the shower of dark liquid. _“Die! Die! **Die!** You bastard!” _

Once she was finished, the Wraith convulsed in a pool of its own bile, but it was _still_ alive. 

“…I knew you’d return. That was too close.” Eos struggled to stand. “Finish the job, quickly, while we have the chance.” 

Eleanor backed away from Wraith, her hands trembling. _“Abigor… I’m sorry.”_

_“Make haste!”_

“…No. He’s Grimm but… He was my best friend.” She sobbed. _“Oh, Abigor. This is all my fault. You left me no choice!”_

_“E-Eleanor! It’s a **Grimm!** It only purpose is to die at our hand! What’s done is done. Give me back my axe, or do as your god commands, and have your revenge!” _

“I won’t. I _can’t.”_ Eleanor defiantly stepped away, holding the axe back. Sooner or later, Wraith would recover. 

“None would ever refuse, unless… No. You’re Xiasma.” Eos gasped, disarmed. _“You’re Xiasma…”_

Hardly believing it, she limped away when Eleanor held a hand out, the hurt in both their hearts cutting deep. So, they ran in opposite directions while Wraith simply _laughed,_ wiping its mouth of blood with a shredded hand and _tasting_ it. Perhaps in time, the decision to spare the shell of Abigor may not bring so happy an ending. 

_“Eleanor…”_ It regurgitated the spoken word with glee. 

Entry No. 8 complete. 

This entry may be finished, but the Archive is not. 


	9. The Deepest Graves, the Farthest Lands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aku's pact will end tonight, whether he succeeds in lengthening his life, or foolishly ending it. The quest for immortality has failed many others before. But if he can succeed, still, he will never prevent tales of the Coven from inspiring humanity. If only every mortal had the will to act, as Eleanor had, this would be the most powerful weapon she could wield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Founder Archives are available to read on Fanfiction.net as well, under the same name. Also, they are available on the Official Founder Archives website, FounderArchives.com.

_Entry 9: The Deepest Graves, the Farthest Lands_

_“I’ll save you.”_ Eleanor said. _“I’ll save you. I’ll save you. I’ll save you.”_

She didn’t save him. 

For her sanity, the simple poem helped, what with the monotony of the last few day’s hike. Where she was going all that time, she hadn’t the slightest clue- but trudging the land in circles was started to bore. Now, she stood the daunting gates that hid her friends, the only solace that pushed her here at all. She opened them just the same. 

“Eleanor!?” Mania gasped. 

“Oh, thank the gods you’ve come back!” Styx sprinted over to keep Eleanor from falling, her voice squeaking. “The loss of Sister Artemis was too much. I don’t know what we’d do without you as well! I didn’t even want to think about it.” 

“She’s right. As much as her conduct worried me, it’s just not the same without everyone. But that’s one step closer to reforming the union. The Coven’s existence is dependent on our alliance, and without Sister Artemis, none of it matters, anyway. I missed you so much.” 

“Um… Are you alright?” Styx noticed how Eleanor hardly moved, slumped back in her chair. 

“…I’ll save you.” She sighed. 

“…She’s scaring me, Sister Mania.” 

“Something’s happened. Tell us.” 

Eleanor paused. In a trance of trauma, she could only mumble. _“I killed Abigor.”_

Silence followed. “What?” 

“He’s dead.” 

No matter what they tried, they couldn’t get Eleanor to elaborate. Eventually, after minutes of this, Mania lost her temper. “Say something! What took place that night? Tell us what happened, damn it!” Mania shook her, to no avail. _This must be an act,_ she thought. _Eos already laid bare the crimes, and if she’s right, we’ve found our traitor. Eleanor won’t tell us her side? That only confirms it._

She pulled Styx aside. “No body to speak of. I guess that means Sister Eos was telling the truth. I can’t think of any reason why Sister Eleanor would dare _not_ to bring back his body, other than a Geist possession… He’s really gone.” She took a moment herself, the fact sinking in. “I can’t imagine how she must feel. Damn it all… Still, she let the Grimm go. This may be a cover.” 

“So what do we do?” Styx said, covering her eyes, completely overwhelmed. 

“We wait. Ugh, I _hate_ waiting. Until she decides to be more cooperative, we’ll need a close eye on her. I’ll continue searching outside. Take her to Sister Diana’s room, where she can rest. Feel free to keep watch yourself, too.” Mania patted her on the back, then walked away. 

“O-Okay…” Styx knew, with the way Mania carried herself, this was partly an excuse to grieve, too. She _sought_ loneliness. 

Under strict instruction, Eleanor was taken to the safer, more relaxed sanctum of Diana. “Eleanor!” Instantly, she nearly tackled her over, giving her a hug that received no reaction. “I missed you so much! Don’t ever leave again!” 

_“I have no reason to leave. I’m a failure.”_

“W-What?” 

“She’s in shock.” Styx elaborated. “A-Abigor… He had to go away for a while. He was needed elsewhere, far beyond our scope of Remnant.” 

“Aw, I’ll miss him too, Eleanor! We all have guy troubles, sometimes. Don’t beat yourself up. I mean, he’ll come back, right?” 

“Yes.” Styx lied. “He may be away a bit longer than we all thought, though.” 

“Listen, Sister Eleanor!” Diana crossed her arms and eased Eleanor onto her bed. “I-I know I’ve never been in a situation like this, but it’s my job to help you! I owe you that much. If you ever want anything, or want to do something, just let me know! Here, you can even have Mister Wiggles.” 

“Just give her time.” Styx offered a thumbs up, before leaving. “The front shrine is unguarded. I must tend to it. And… I thought it prudent to tell you, Sister Eos is _still_ praying in the Lower Chapel. She needs more time. Continue to leave her alone, for your sake.” 

“I still can’t see her?” Her face dropped, not that anyone could tell under the visor. “H-Has she said anything, yet?” 

Styx nodded her head back and forth, then slipped out as fast as she could. Lying like that broke her heart, and those weren’t even _Mania’s_ orders. Abigor’s death and the implications it carried were just too heavy for the youngest. For now, the dark was the safest place to be until everything was sorted out. At least, that was _Styx’s_ way of seeing it. _“When Sister Mania finds out about this, I’m dead…”_

Hours passed, with Diana periodically checking up on Eleanor. The occasional awkward conversation would take place, but as her mental state sorted itself out, she knew it would take years, if ever, to _fully_ recover from Abigor’s death. She was at least cognoscente enough to comprehend Styx’s deception, and strangely enough, she agreed. Diana was spared all details. 

One of those dawns, Diana yawned in a sea of stuffed animals, dropping her books to watch Eleanor. “Hey! You doing alright?” 

She nodded. Her mind was a prison, the days rolling by as she replayed the Wraith’s birth over and over in her head, imagining all the ways she could’ve changed the outcome. If only one of these hypotheticals could be enacted, in a rewritten past. And after so long with only her torturous thoughts and the sound of Diana’s quill pen scratching forever, she finally sat up. 

“Sister Diana.” 

“Yes? Need more soup? You know, I think I’m finally starting to get the hang of this whole _cooking_ thing.” 

“I’d like to leave.” 

“Y-You don’t mean you want to quit the Coven, right?” 

“No.” 

“All right!” Diana cheered, helping her off the bed. “I knew you’d come around, eventually. Must be pretty weird to stand after all this time, huh? So, what do you want to do? Even though it’s raining, it must be nice to go outside again. Or, we can-” 

“I wish to see Sister Eos.” 

_“O-Oh._ She’s in the Lower Chapel. Guess that means I’m staying here, then.” Diana tried to hide her disappointment. “Could you say hello for me?” 

“Yes… Thank you.” After a pause, with the expectation of elaboration, Eleanor gave in and shut the door. True to Diana’s word, Eos was easily found. She was the antithesis of stealth, as per usual. In a garden of flowers, she’d been slouched over, muttering hymns. _“You know, they could still use heroes out there.”_

“I suppose they could.” Eos nodded, and stood up to the beat of church bells. “But there’s a compromising truth. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I’ve realized something. There was a time when you and I waged war out of necessity, but now it’s _obligation_ that keeps us fighting. An oath, with no end. It’ll have to be broken, eventually.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“The world doesn’t need us anymore. We couldn’t even save _Abigor._ We couldn’t even **kill** him when he was replaced with Grimm. And Trajan is due to return. I can’t stop this. I can’t stop _you.”_

The reaction was pure desperation. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t do better. Couldn’t _be_ better. Is there anything I can do to convince you I’m not Xiasma? This has gone on long enough. I-I’ll disappear, and you’ll never see me again, if that’s what it takes. I don’t want you to have to question me any longer.” 

Eos shook her head. “I’ve been questioning _everything,_ for as long as I can remember. Maybe I’ve just lost the part of me that made me human, strange as it may sound. That which connected me to the outside world. Without it, we’re just victims of a cruel scheme named existence. Maybe you learned that years ago.” She looked her straight in the eyes, a twinkle shining past the mask that impenetrably cloaked her face in shadow. “I’m begging you to tell me one thing. Was there _ever_ a time when our friendship was real?” 

“I thought it was… I get it. You’ve written off everything we’ve fought for, since _this_ is what it’s brought. A spurious mission. Therefore, if our companionship was a **result** of the mission, then that _too_ must be fake... But I never liked you for the _Coven._ I liked you for _you.”_ Eleanor admitted, her cheeks wet. They both stood next to each other, watching a glass mural stained with divine countenances. Somehow, though impossible, she expected one of them to come to life and speak. Outside, the downpour never ended. 

“I hope the afterlife isn’t a lie, too. This is the last time we’ll ever speak to each other _alive._ One of us is going to die, tonight.” 

“How do you figure?” Eleanor asked in monotone. 

Eos kneeled again. “This is the same feeling I had when all the Heralds died. I felt it the last night of Lady Demeter, _and_ Abigor. I feel it now, with you. Despite everything, I hope it spells my death, and not yours.” 

“Let’s make a promise. Even if you’re the traitor-“ 

“I’m not. You are.” 

“Fine. _Whoever it is_ , if only one of us can make it to sunrise, then the other will forgive in spirit. Even through death, I want something of the good times to remain.” Eleanor said. 

_“They hid here, all this time? Among the humans?”_ Aku held back incredulous laughter, asking Wraith a question despite knowing he’d receive only screeches, if any response at all. He precociously tested Thornscourge against the phantom fence. Brushing his fingers across it prompted a burning sensation. “Such impertinence for their bloodline is deserving of ruination enough already. Primitive beast! What are you waiting for? I recognized that body, and I know why you brought me here. Show me how well you knew the Coven, and let me inside.” 

It seemed to ignore him. “You fool! Do you believe Grimm are exempt from judgment? _It’d be a real shame to burst your bubble here and now. Of course, without me, you’ll never make it to **Eleanor…** ” _

_That_ yielded a reaction. With little care for stealth, its spindly arms and distended jaw swung about, and Wraith slashed and tore at the spot of which Diana had damaged prior. The simple patch job done by Artemis had served its function well, but was not build to defend against an attack, let alone the berserker onslaught triggered by the mention of Eleanor. They _never_ expected something to actually find them. 

“You have done well in bringing me this far.” Aku stepped inside the Heart, flicking now visible shreds of the glass-like wall to the ground with glee. Wraith nodded, slobbering about the bridge never crossed by Grimm. “Not you. I’m talking to this _vermin-_ this equally _sacrilegious bile_ of Remnant.” 

“M-Me? How _dare_ you speak to me like- Ah! _W-Wait!”_ Herald gulped at the incoming backhand. “That’s what I _would_ have said, if you were a measly human! But the _Trajaneer_ himself? Oh, it’s an honor, believe me.” 

_“I believe you.”_ Aku resumed his cadence, Herald only following so close behind due to the drooling gaze of Wraith. In truth, neither of the three had any reason to let the other live beyond a common goal that wouldn’t last the hour. Still, it was more than the Coven could say. As Aku checked the floor curiously, Herald vanished. “I must admit, I’m taken aback with the golden décor. It’s a step above my briny, barnacle infested amphitheater beneath the sea.” 

A clash of plates, trays, and bowls caught their attention. Mania watched, frozen. _“No. No, no, no! Y-You’re just hallucinating, Mania. That’s all! Just seeing things, from… Stress! Yes, that must be it. It’s not real.”_

“Yes, it must be awe-inspiring to see me again, _here_ of all places. But I assure you, this is as real as it gets. You’re a sight for sore eyes, too.” Aku taunted. Immediately, his newest prey sprinted to the side in a panic, where a short but loud pipe waited for such an emergency. She broke it out of its prison and used it to raise the alarm. “Ah, that’s no fair! We want a clean, even fight. You’ll really need six, just to match one: myself? Oh, and these fine gentlemen as well.” He gestured to Herald, whom he assumed to still be quivering behind him, then Wraith. “That’ll be one _and a half. We can’t have **that,** can we?”_ He attempted a ritual of the fingers, but Mania wouldn’t allow it. 

_“You are trespassing sacred ground!”_ She forced a brawl with her Scythe, keeping Aku in a two-handed sword stance and preventing any summon of his crew. Meanwhile, his two present allies watched catatonically, either out of fear or disinterest. 

“Oh, this is beautiful.” He sighed. “I’ve not fought so boldly since my challenge against _Krey, the Soulcess’ Judge!”_

“You speak nonsense!” Mania took a breather, both of them sweating in their metal coffins. “Did you really think you could drink the waters of the Soulcess’ stream unopposed? Even a human would’ve been cut down, let alone a sin like you.” 

_“Anything_ to become immortal. In sipping from the fountain, is that not how all of _you_ managed to live this long?” A creaking door revealed Diana, who gasped at the sight of the two. “Oh? Well, all but _one.”_

“Sister Diana! Get out of here, now!” 

“You’d better do as she says. _Take it from me!”_ Herald announced, bashing his way through the doors, pretending he _just_ made it here for the first time. Aku chuckled. “If we’re going to leave this place together, we’ll need better equipment than I can provide. Do you have _Tormentyst?”_

“Y-Yes, but…” She looked back at the exhausted Mania, guilt ridden. “I can’t leave her like this! We’ll have to stay a little longer.” 

“What can you do? You’re a ditzy child who can barely **lift** the sword.” He scoffed. “You’re nothing! Have you any idea how many Heralds died at his command, and you really think you can fight _him?_ You may be _chosen,_ but you’re as unworthy as they come! Go on. _Break_ yourself against Aku.” He waited, his caricature faltering. He couldn’t care less about Mania’s abrupt defeat, only realizing she was beaten at that moment. 

Standing over her, Aku held Thornscourge downward. Diana questioned his lack of response to her advance. If she had the experience to trust this intuition, she wouldn’t have been pelted away by an Eidolon. More than one, in fact. He was _surrounded_ by his own bowlegs. 

“If… If you think my death means the end for the Coven…” Mania coughed out triumphantly. “You will _never-”_

She gasped, unable to finish, his blade stabbing a hole through her pelvis. “I know.” He heeded, wiping the fresh stain of the blade on his arm. 

“Mania!” Diana shrieked, as Eleanor and Eos broke their way through the cellar doors and joined in her horror. And beside them, Styx wiped away her own tears. _It may have been a mistake,_ Aku thought, _to give them such an emotional boost._

Where he offered ample time to mourn before their duel, Wraith held no concept of restraint. At the sight of _Eleanor,_ simple pandemonium gave way to complex chaos. With the Black Horsemen and their Captain, a screeching shell of Grimm and crusader combined, and a false accomplice trying everything to coax the most vulnerable into handing over a sword, the subset of choreography and disarray was nigh indescribable. 

The bedlam ended with Styx’s defeat. Again, each member of the Falsus Heredis formed a dome, perfectly encircling Aku so he may advance the violent ceremony in peace. They hadn’t accounted for an _aerial_ attack. 

Through the roof Artemis crashed. _“You could not hide your tracks forever, Delphic, and I swore you would pay for what you did!”_

_“Oh, wonderful!”_ Aku said. _“The purest has arrived! I’d expected the **first** member to be the first to **die,** so while I’m less than impressed to see you join so late, it’s a pleasure all the same. Have at it, then!” _ Though unexpected, this hardly changed his strategy. While they tested their limits in the center of the ring, each Eidolon executed their rehearsed routine in a robotic fashion. And all this was _before_ the attack of Wraith. To say it was _frustrating_ was an insult to understatements. 

“No! She needs our help!” Eleanor begged pointlessly. 

Aku was unbeatable. He’d already resisted each of them at once before, nights ago, and now he had help to ensure an uninterrupted duel. All the centuries of training, and planning, and they were _helpless,_ humiliated to heights never thought possible. 

The resident merchant recently acquired as an ally, thankfully so, was more competent than he let on. True to his word, Troy was willing to deliver the goods. Unable to resist the chance to step inside but unsure _why_ the shield was gone, he now had an answer. 

He attempted to stall, sending a salvo of dust forward from his shop, employing every trinket and dusty weapon he could. But Aku was not his target. In the short time he’d witnessed Abigor fight, he picked up a few tricks, able to predict the Wraith’s strategy based on that of his long deceased host. “You’re not half bad like this, but you’re still a fool to walk amongst this shrine. We humans need to know when to quit!” 

Eventually, he ran out of tools, his store empty. He was nothing without that cache of equipment. Or at least, that was the impression he _gave,_ baiting Wraith to tackle him with a pathetic jog. When the Grimm wailed in his face, Troy closed his eyes, then smiled. “Oh, Abigor. You were right.” He held up a single red dust crystal, ready to ignite the flames. “Someone like me can never outlive you. We’ll go down together, as humans always do. _Till next time!”_

In his travelers pack, a laughably unrealistic amount of dust sat, and when combusted, both warriors erupted apart, Wraith breaking its back upon a fireplace spanning several ceilings high. Troy couldn’t tell _what_ broke his fall, only that somebody pulled him from the rubble when it was done crashing down. 

_“…Courageous.”_ Aku held him up. _“Even for a human, you are powerful, and deserving of compassion. But you have no place in this fight. I shall banish you to the Land of Madness, where time is but a memory. You will not impede my conquest again.”_

He was gone, never to be seen after his departure through an unnerving crack in space and time. Through all this, Aku’s stamina never relented, one hand busy with both fending off attacks, and _punishing_ those who sent them. 

Artemis fell to her feet, catching one last glimpse at her friends in action. _That_ much made her happy. She worried she’d never again see them, but now believed, somehow, they’d press on without her. In death, it was definitively proven that she couldn’t be Xiasma. Whether or not that was her intention all along, it seemed in detail concurringly similar to Mania, Artemis was no more. 

Around the body, a tornado of black vultures descended before flying upwards, to the clouds, scattering feathers within miles of the thunderstruck castle. But much like Artemis herself, there was no explosive conclusion to their freedom. 

_“That’s **two.”**_ Aku breathed a sigh of relief, wiping a second streak of blood on his forearm. He then marched over to the still body of Styx. If they had the space to shut down and weep, Eos, Eleanor, and Diana would have. 

“I’ve got to stop him…” Styx choked, watching him approach her lifeless double. From above, she perched. Her theory _seemed_ to work. He impaled the dummy wearing a second set of her clothes, before succumbing to confusion. _“For the sisters we lost today… I must do something… For every Grimm that’s ever slayed a human in cold blood… For yourself. Inculto!”_

She relied too much on silence, rather than speed. Aku had time to swoop around and bring an end to her cunning escapade. Sliced in the knees, she skid to the floor, her hood falling loose. _“Clever. I’d tell you never to rely on these archaic tricks, or you’ll lose your life. But now, that life is at an end. Still, hold honor in lasting this long.”_ Pulling Styx up by the hair, he soaked in pride. __

**_“Stop this! Lady Clotho! Please!”_** Diana crumpled to the ground, trying to block out what was happening. Styx’s demise and the next step of the corrupt pact was overtaken by _Herald,_ who scooped the fallen Tormentyst up off the ground now that she had at last given it up. 

“Yes!” Herald held it to the skies before taking off. It looked even better in his hands than he imagined, the gold reflection shining his teeth back, mouth agape, overjoyed. The celebration culminated with a slam, as he rammed into the result of an Idol’s Twilight portal and tumbled, Tormentyst sliding across the ground with a shrill scrape. “Ah! _Y-You!?”_

**_“This is unacceptable.”_**

“Kalthus! Thank the gods you’ve come. Get me out of here! Well? What are you waiting for? Bring us both to the black plains before it’s too late!” He snatched his newest weapon back. 

**_“I knew you’d chase young Diana’s treasures, but to do so at the cost of their lives? Did you think I wanted them dead? The gods control everything, Herald. Even yourself. And concerning you, if your powers are a result of my work, then I am well within bounds to take them away all the same. Perhaps one day, your wandering ghost will forgive me. Even if you weren’t to continue on this path, your suffering at the hands of Keres and Clotho will exceed what’s already been written in store. Consider my actions tonight an act of mercy.”_ **

Herald blinked several times, shocked, on his knees. “W-Wait a minute. Please. I have so much more in store for Remnant. You can’t do this to me! I did everything you ordered, exactly as you asked! I _brought_ you the Rhinestone _- **Argh!”**_

He erupted into an array of black flames, flailing around with guttural cries as the broadsword was torched into his fingers, unable to let go even if he _wanted_ to. With one last scream, not even his ashes remained. 

“Sir Kyradin Bael.” Eos bowed even with her wounds, sliding Tormentyst onto her back. “Thank you. We will forever be indebted to you, but we still need more aid. Is it too much to ask you save _us,_ too?” 

**_“Indeed. The Commander of the Old Fang’s death is favor enough. He had no place coming clean away with Clotho’s bequest. Always a pleasure.”_ **

With that, Eos had no one left but Eleanor and Diana. And the latter opted _not_ to sit down and whimper, but fight for their life against _Wraith._

“Abigor, stop!” Eleanor said. She’d come out on top of this matchup once before. If only she could replicate that success, there may be half a chance. Eventually, through sheer will, she parried the claw attacks and feigned past Wraith’s tricky abilities of morphing through walls until checkmate was reached. She may have taken it too far. 

With one slash and throw, Wraith was nearly cut into two halves, catapulted against a large mantle. 

_“Why didn’t you just listen!? You’re bested, same as our last engagement. And the more time that passes on Remnant with you in it, the more powerful you’re bound to become. If I let you go a second time, I couldn’t live with the misery you’re sure to inflict upon Remnant. Forgive me!”_ Slowly, the pillar on which Wraith was broken upon cracked, and the Heart of the Coven’s foundation became questionable. So drastic was this development that Aku and his minions stumbled about too, recognizing how the threat of being crushed beat any sword. But while they were concerned with their _own_ safety, weakness was seen in the way the Coven looked out for _each other._

Eleanor pulled Diana off the ground and hugged her, resigned to act as a shield despite inadequate armor. In every direction the mounting walls crumbled, and Eleanor knew she didn’t have the strength to hold them up. Fortunately for them both, someone _else_ did. 

_“Argh!”_ Eos held up the unsteady Kingdom. Silence followed as she struggled to continue this feat. _“…Go! Get out of here, now!”_

“Eos, no! You have to come with us!” 

_“I’m afraid that’s an impossibility. I know, now. Xiasma would never willingly sacrifice themselves as you’ve tried here… Consider this a last favor… Like old times!”_ In her voice, strained as it was, Eleanor could tell she was _smiling. “Diana must survive… Take her far away from here.”_

“But what about you!?” 

_“A promise’s a promise. I’ll be watching you from the afterlife, always… Thank you. You were there.”_

Tormentyst in hand with Diana slung over a shoulder, Eleanor navigated the crumbling abbeys and painted bethels until the exit shrine was within sight, and the shaking stopped. With the use of Troy’s abandoned carriage and lonesome horses, she fled. Nothing else mattered. With one final peek at the ruins, she formulated a plan of hiding. One that, eventually, may bring retribution- but it all hinged on Diana. 

From the tallest tower, glowing in the blood of four Descendants, Aku watched them leave. _“You fought valiantly. You played your pieces well. Thank you. The Eidolons will slumber now, and I may finally rest. Our shared immortality has rendered time non-existent. Do whatever you need. Run, Descendants. Prepare the deepest graves. Flea for the farthest lands. Perhaps, if you are still alive when it is done, we may dine to the death another terrible night.”_

Entry No. 9 complete. 

This entry may be finished, but the Archive is not. 


	10. A Despair Filled Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the World of Remnant forgets Clotho's Coven, they'll endlessly owe their existence to the champions nonetheless. Eleanor, with her best friend and disciple Diana, must continue their travels to the brink of myth's writings. Humanity may move on, but the hunt for the truth, perilous as it is, has only just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Founder Archives are available to read on Fanfiction.net as well, under the same name. Also, they are available on the Official Founder Archives website, FounderArchives.com.

_Entry 10: A Despair Filled Farewell_

After last night’s ordeal, the _swamps_ were a welcome respite. Troy’s advanced sleigh didn’t have the wheels to make it past a bog, but even though the tallest tower of the Coven was within sight, it was unlikely Aku would give chase. That didn’t change how paranoid Diana was. Still shell-shocked, she shivered at any thought of yesterday. _It must be a prank,_ she found herself justifying. _This can’t be happening._

The back of the chariot rattled her back into the real world. Eleanor had returned. 

“D-Did you find the rest? Sister Eos and Artemis?” 

“Yes. Their armor is intact, too. It too must be preserved just the same. And, no longer are they Sisters. _Lady_ Eos and Artemis are they, now.” Eleanor wiped her eyes. “Told you. Nobody’s there. The Trajaneer must’ve left in the night, soon after us, once he got what he wanted. I know the damage looks bad, but… Nothing we can’t fix, in the coming years.” 

“So… Now what?” 

Eleanor set down her recently departed fellowship, the four deceased knights together again, covered with a white sheet in the main compartment. “Now, we leave. It’s up to us to ensure a proper burial. Lady Artemis established a rough plan of action back when it was only her and Lady Eos, just in case. It was always meant to be a _contingency._ We never gave it much thought. Nobody **ever** expected this would actually happen. We must take them across the lands, to the northern continent of snow. The graveyard of Lady Clotho… Would you like to, you know… Talk about it?” 

“No.” Diana grabbed her legs and tried not to shake. 

“Hey, c’mon. This just means more one-on-one time between us.” She tried to cheer her up. “It’s not over. You were chosen among us for a reason. With eyes like yours, you were meant to surpass _any_ Silver-Eyed Warrior. In time, I know this will only strengthen us. Here, check out what I found in your room.” A stuffed wolf was presented, which had been kept behind Eleanor’s back. “It’s Mister Wiggles.” 

Diana said nothing, though she smiled and accepted. 

“I have a feeling you’ll like our _second_ destination.” Eleanor said. 

“What do you mean?” 

“The Forgotten Tears. Clotho’s Coven only dies with _you._ So now, it’s time. Become immortal.” 

“B-But… Am I really ready? I know it’d be breaking rules. What would Sister Artemis say?” 

_“I_ dictate when, as your teacher. And it’s _Lady_ Artemis.” Eleanor corrected. 

_“It doesn’t matter! Don’t you see? Herald was right. I was no use at all! They’re all gone, because of me.”_

_“No.”_ Eleanor sat closer, embracing her. “Most people like us would’ve taken a sip of the Soulcess’ waters before they could _speak,_ their beginning in Remnant aligned with the Soulcess, but you? You’re special. You’ve been through more than all of them, as a human. _What you’ve done? The amount of work you’ve put in?_ **I** make the decision when you’re ready. And I couldn’t be more proud.” She started tearing herself. “Do you know the _Soulcess’ Judge?”_

“…Yes. That would be _Krey,_ right? He was all over the books. He’s the one who ensures anyone attempting to reincarnate in the Soulcess is truly an Amaryllis. And, he stops anyone whom he deems unworthy from drinking the river’s drops. _No one_ can appose his might.” 

“Even without me at your side, he’ll bend to you at once. I’d bet anything on it. Time heals all, Sister Diana. I learned that not long ago myself, when Abigor was turned into the Wraith.” 

“…I knew it. He’s dead, isn’t he?” 

“…Yep.” Eleanor tried to soften the blow, cradling Diana’s shoulder, gazing upon the sunrise. “ _Hahaha._ So, this must be how Lady Eos saw the world. Pretty spooky.” 

“She always kind of scared me, actually.” Diana smiled, joy and sadness coming together. 

“…Me too, kiddo.” 

Their conversations, depressing as they were, tended to come infrequently, and they ended even sooner. If not for the need to ease the pain of her only friend, Eleanor may have given in herself. 

Through the endless variations of a countryside they travelled, from sunset to sundown, over mountains and under ravines. Other than the occasional sighting from scattered towns overnight, humanity brought forth theories of the Coven’s absence. “The Grimm invasions haven’t stopped, you see.” Eleanor explained to Diana one rainy night. “Sure, while we’re always _welcome,_ it’s taken only a few days for Remnant to replace us with The Seventh Brigade, which has had a surge in numbers, and a new leader. Funny how that works out, huh? Same kind of thing happened when we started Lady Styx’s travel to drink the Forgotten Tears. _And_ Lady Mania. I wasn’t there for the others.” 

“It was probably a bigger problem back then, right? Back when there weren’t manmade weapons, and soldiers, and _order.”_

“Oh, yeah. A pilgrimage such as _this one_ back when it all started would’ve pinned us as wanted. Humans are fickle like that. We’re heroes one moment, and the next we’re outlaws just for living like everyone else. If they see someone exemplary drop the mantle, it’s viewed as a crime. Then, suddenly, we we’re heroes again.” 

“What about the others? **Herald the XVI** needs to be replaced, too.” Diana laid a hand on Tormentyst, remembering how easily it drove one of her friends to villainy. 

“Very good. To think he’d aid the bane of every Herald, the Trajaneer. It’s insane. Those Eidolons were his worst nightmare.” She covered her mouth. “When he pointed us to find the Rhinestone back in Servus City, we played right into his hand, the lying scoundrel. The tablets never made mention of such a thing, I’m guessing. Made it all up.” 

“But why?” 

“It was his plan all along to steal the Beryl Rhinestone, no matter the cost, and trade it for his freedom. All in the name of your sword. He lived, and died, for it.” Eleanor sighed. “I can only guess what Sir Kyradin Bael has in mind _this_ time. No doubt, from this point forth he’ll be prone to choosing faunus _without_ the capacity for malice.” 

“Uh, yeah?” They both solemnly laughed. A Nomadic Outpost, now overrun with villagers who’d taken the land by force, greeted them with an open gate. A single conversation with the innkeeper, and they were ready to laze off the night. They couldn’t sleep, so they spent their time talking, playing games in the warm cradle of blankets, or crafting onto the log interiors simple shadows, cast from a healthy fireplace. Diana smiled for the first time in a while. 

“So, I was wondering, since traditional is gone, and all…” She said. “Can you finally tell me what a _Herald_ is?” 

“Ha. Couldn’t hurt.” She set down her cards, face down. “Mere leaders, of the Old Fang. Kyradin Bael’s always handpicked his generals for as long as history exists. There’s only ever been one at any time, but as long as you’re faunus, and you’re willing to learn the Old Arts, anyone’s got a chance.” 

Diana played a set of cards, trying to outwit Eleanor and talk at the same time. The wood table creaked, their cabin pelted by the rain’s deafening downpour. “Let me just get this straight. So they’re specially vetted squires of the Arbiter. That’s Sir Kyradin Bael, the faunus in red who caught Herald XVI the night of the… _incident.”_

“Exactly.” Eleanor clapped. “By the way, you beat me. Another round!” 

“…Is Kyradin Bael and _Kalthus_ the same person?” 

Eleanor had to laugh out loud. “You clever snake. I knew it.” 

“W-What?” 

“The night we fought Aku. You spoke to him, didn’t you? _He_ was the one to rescue you.” At hearing this, Diana squirmed. “Ha. Meet Kalthus, the **Oathkeeper** who’s lived many eras, with _one_ name for each. As Lord Keres’ most trusted ambassador, his name was _Sir Kyradin Bael.”_

Diana slowly nodded, the entire story as senseless but intriguing as the next round of cards. “I’ll shuffle this time.” 

Morning brought good news and spirits, thanks in part to the squall’s recession. “Leaving so soon?” The innkeeper asked, an array of weapons freshly forged on the wall behind him. 

“I’m afraid so.” Eleanor said. “What’s your story? A blacksmith, is it? Good. I could use a new sword.” 

“Yeah?” He lined up several. “What happened to the old one?” 

In response, she unlatched the twisted knot of steel strapped to her waist for him to see- a result of the Wraith’s wrath. 

“Oh? You want a _repair_ job. That’ll cost extra.” 

“Of course. Your kind has an _obsession_ with price tags.” She remarked, to Diana’s smirking. “What’ll it be?” 

“Double.” 

_“Woah.”_ Eleanor crossed her arms. “No. That can’t be right.” 

_“Yeah, we’ll see…_ Never have I seen a weapon in such a state of disrepair. Did you feed it to an Ursa, or something? _”_ The blacksmith tried to gauge the scope of the project best he could, a silver engraving of characters on the blade visible but unreadable. “What did _this_ say?” 

She hesitated. “It translates into _‘His Gift’_. This sword was a peace offering, between me and the-“ 

Diana cut in, catching a quiver in Eleanor’s voice. “The last Captain of the Seventh Brigade.” 

_“Abigor?”_ The Innkeeper wheezed. __

“You knew of him?” Eleanor asked. 

“Y-Yeah. Who wouldn’t? He was the best among us. Eh, I never knew him personally, but someone like that… I still can’t believe he’s really gone.” He squinted, catching an appreciative shift in Eleanor’s body language. “Say… You’re from _Clotho’s Coven,_ aren’t you!?” 

His fuss brought murmurs, until a small crowd had formed, eager to shake their hands, or offer them food. The feeling was nostalgic. They were still legends, this quant and creaking town proof of it. It seemed like celebrations of their work were so foreign, but it hadn’t been _that_ long since the Trajaneer’s conquest. “Thank you, thank you!” Eleanor tried to calm them down, Diana too shy for such attention. If only the rest could have shared this moment. 

“Why do we have to do this so _early?”_ Diana whined in the timely morning of the next day, balancing Tormentyst between her hands. 

“These urbans get a bit rowdy, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, when we’re out and about. Best start when they’re asleep. Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here in a just a few days, then it’s business as usual! And none of it will matter once you’ve sipped the tears, anyway.” 

“Good.” She made Eleanor laugh. 

“Not to mention, I’ve been waiting to try _this.”_ She matched Diana’s pose with her newly forged weapon. “Don’t be nervous. Lady Artemis was a tough coach, I know, but I’m very different. Relax.” 

She waited for the student to advance. Ten seconds passed, and still she waited. “Sister Diana? Why are you shaking?” 

_“I… I haven’t used Tormentyst since the night of my failure against Aku. I-I haven’t fought **at all** since the Heart’s fall.” _

Eleanor’s formation collapsed, and she quickly held both of Diana’s hands. “There is nobody here to hurt you, now. I promise. Here! We’ll do it _together.”_ Eleanor stood behind her, naturally being taller, and gripped Diana’s wrist, steadying her. “Perfection. Pay attention to my voice. Loosen your grip. _There is no purpose in holding such power- such **anger.** You don’t need to exert every ounce of strength. **Especially** not with a weapon as well made as this one. The sword is a **tool.** Let it do the work.” _

A seldom unnoticed black vulture watched curiously into sunrise, satisfied at the moans of swinging metal. When it left, the two knights waved goodbye, the vultures forever tied to their deceased ruler. 

As the nights rolled by, and lush green was superseded by dry ground and snow, villages became the exception rather than the rule. Diana had become skilled at making fires in the night, and an unspoken tradition of roasting dinner over conversation was established. 

Eleanor preferred to watch her meal _burn_ on the stick, able to perform all the same on an empty stomach. “So, I’ve been thinking. One of us must be Xiasma. I mean, let’s be honest. There’s only two of us left, so…” 

“I-It isn’t me. Please.” There was a hint of fear in her voice. 

“It’s alright. I know it’s not you. You’d never betray us. _Me,_ rather. You’d never betray **me.** But, neither would I turn my back on you. I don’t know _what_ to think. What about you?” 

“Maybe… Think about it. There’s no way Xiasma was anyone of us who died.” Diana sniffed. “Because, I don’t think anyone who’s a mastermind would ever end a plan with their own death, unless something went terribly wrong. But the prophesy is still active. Right?” 

“Trajan’s not back yet, so as far as I can tell, yeah. Basically, you’re admitting that it was you all along.” Diana dropped her food and fell back. “Only kidding! Goodness. Take a joke. Here, have mine.” Eleanor handed over a scorched piece of hard meat, shriveled to perfection. 

“Gee. Thanks.” 

“I, um. I want to apologize. I’m sorry that all this happened. We pulled you into our world, raised you, made you _love us_ as family. And then we left. But it wasn’t supposed to _be_ this way. The Sisterhood was only meant to rest with time itself.” They leaned on the other’s shoulders, lending the resolve not to cry _again._

“It’s not your fault. Not theirs, either.” A pause followed. 

“You’re not eating. You’ll never become a champion with such a lame appetite.” Eleanor said. 

“It’s, err…” She tried to make the blackened skewer seem edible. “A little _crispy_ for my tastes.” 

“Gotcha. I’ll go get some more. Be right back! Just keep the fire hot. We can’t let it die, now.” 

Around a few trees, nestled among a chilled lake, the carriage was parked. She first gathered more frozen meat, before petting the stallions and taking a bucket to the nearby water. Eleanor squinted at the ripples formed in earnest, which travelled to the horizon. She felt as though she was being watched. 

“…Guys? H-Hey! Guys!” Eleanor called out, testing whether or not she was really seeing the ghosts of the Coven Members, or simply losing her mind. If it wouldn’t have resulted in a freezing, slow death, she would’ve waded across the water to meet them before the phantoms, or figments of a cruel imagination, faded. “Wait! _Come back!”_

“Hey! Sister Diana!” Eleanor rushed back with her supplies, excited. “You’ll never guess what I saw!” 

The fire was gone. Through the white steam and falling snow a darker presence kneeled over Diana, gently laying her on the ground by the shoulders, holding a finger to its drooling lips as if to lull her into a deeper sleep than was already achieved. Eleanor dropped everything. “Get away from her!” 

Wraith spun its neck backwards and obeyed. Slowly, it floated into the sun, waving goodbye forever so its good work could be examined closely. _“No! Diana, don’t leave! I can’t go on without you!”_

No use. If Abigor couldn’t survive the channeling of a Geist, Diana never stood a chance. 

She should’ve been used to weeping by now, but Eleanor’s heart split open nonetheless, the skies turning away in sadness to enshroud the spectacle in blackened tempests. Even the brightest, most vivid eyes in Remnant, snuffed out, were lifeless. Diana’s cheeks were dripping with tears, though they weren’t her own. 

Eleanor screamed to the sky. _“Was this always the fate you had in store? I sacrificed everything to serve the Coven, and in return **this** is the path you’ve set before me?! Have I not given enough? Why have you forsaken me!? Clotho! Hestia! Keres! **Answer me!”** _ Her sobbing returned. _“Why? Why them? Why not me instead?”_

In truth, this changed nothing, other than adding another casualty to the list of pupils to be preserved. The punishment of _travelling_ there and performing the stacked funeral alone wasn’t enough. Eleanor had no reason to continue once the task was done until her sins were paid. 

Six golden caskets waited, five of which were crowned with a candle, and the last completely empty. Regardless, they were aligned in order of age under a towering sculpt of the four _greatest_ deities, in a fortress that dwarfed the decrepit Heart of the Coven. 

Eleanor lit each of the candles, praying. “To the _Coven **Light.**_ The _Coven **Rogue.**_ The _Coven **Reaper.**_ The _Coven **Knight.**_ The _Coven **Huntress.**_ Rest, now. May you forever share, love, and laugh above, in harmony. Oh, furthermore, shall you be among me still, even in passing. _For it is through our allegiance that Remnant may rest, undying. Inculto, sisters. I’ll miss you.”_

She laid inside the fourth coffin and drifted to sleep, just as she sought to do at the turn of every new moon from then on. Centuries passed. The world moved on, the lands named anew, humans and faunus able to prosper even with five-sixths of their defenses gone. 

“Well… This is it.” Eleanor shrugged at her map. “At least, it certainly looks that way. I mean, this sketch matches the town _and_ that home up there on that big hill, yes?” No response. As usual. “Look, I know nobody’s ever found it, but it says _right here_ that the **High Mansion** and its neighboring town below was Trajan’s reprieve, _and_ it’s the location where he was buried. Wish me luck, guys.” 

It wasn’t often she came to Atlas. Crossing the bridge towards the house high above reminded her why. It brought back too many memories. Painful ones, but mostly good ones too. Now, lost in a deep labyrinth in search of Trajan’s resting place, this seemed like a much needed break in the case she spent years building. 

“Ahem.” She tried turning the handle, never considering it may be locked. So, thinking it silly, she tried the natural next move and knocked. The fact that somebody actually _opened_ it startled her. The person’s armor didn’t hide his bulging muscles nor ability to beat her in height by nearly a foot even with a mechanical leg. “A-A Delphic? Are you Trajan?” 

_“No.”_ Cain’s voice surpassed expectation. _“Goodbye.”_

Eleanor put her hand forward to keep the door open. “The last Delphic civilization living here was eradicated eons ago. How did you get here, and why are you living in the High Mansion?” 

_“I found it. So it’s mine. And **you** are unwelcome here. Time to leave.” _

He failed to lock her out a second time. “Do you know who you’re speaking to, Delphic? Surrender yourself to me, and accept judgment. Lady Clotho demands it.” 

_“…Did I not make myself clear?”_ Cain moved forward, breathing heavily in restraint. _“Get. Out.”_ Strangely, he had no reaction to Tormentyst being raised to his neck. _“Or I’ll bolt your helmet against my wall.”_

She didn’t listen. With the use of silver eyes, which Cain had no prior knowledge of, Eleanor turned him to solid rock. Even faster than Aku, who remained fresh in her memory, he exploded out of the spell and punched her in the stomach swifter than she could swing. 

“Gah! _H-How?”_ She coughed out, trying not to inhale dust and debris, which was swept into the air by the same fractured boulder that caught her. 

“Oh, wow. Now, look at that. The fight is over.” Cain announced, strutting back into the grand structure. 

“No. The fight is **never** over.” Eleanor contested. 

_“Fight’s over, now.”_ He slammed the door. She slammed back, knocking it off its hinges and tackling him past the living room like a battering ram, breaking through the furthest wall just to smash him through a tree. 

_“Ohhh… I’m going to gut you like roadkill.”_ Cain stomped back to his feet, shifting the ground beneath them. A simple but primal trade of fists brought them back under a roof. Eleanor had no choice but to back up, but taking the battle indoors was advantageous to the intruder nonetheless. 

Reserving their weapons for the real fight, neither of them considered it cheating to use the environment. First, Eleanor snatched a red-hot poker from the lit mantle and hazed Cain with it, burning his skin, though the pain only made him _madder._ She hadn’t recognized his semblance, yet. 

This strategy culminated with the chandelier, which was cut down to bash him from above. With a roar, he retaliated with an even _more_ straightforward disregard for his _own_ possessions. The **grandfather clock** gave way to a cloud of wood and gears once crunched over Eleanor’s head. Stunned, she could only brace for impact as he lifted her by the arm into an old, impressive piano. Not surprisingly, _that_ exploded, too. 

_This guy’s insane!_ Eleanor coped with the pain through inner monologue. _Oh, what I’d give to see you teach him real strength, Lady Eos._

Cain was more tenacious, but was still only a mortal. Eleanor used more sessions of training than anyone bound by lifespan could, to zip off the floor towards a rocking chair: her next weapon. It would’ve been comical how the High Mansion’s priceless artifacts were being depleted so quickly, but it all belonged to Trajan anyway. Like him, they were best left gone. 

A heavy suit of armor encased in glass was ruined in its use as a large club. A mounted sword, just one of many weapons on display, was broken in two. Eleanor, quick not to be outdone, used a spiked, cobweb-ridden shield from the same wall as a shuriken, its impact enough to send the target through a window into the dining room. 

_“I’ll take down this entire city if that’s what it takes.”_ Cain ripped a set of embroidered window shades off the wall and finessed them around Eleanor’s eyes, wrapping her to make a throw onto the table too easy. From there, he crushed her head under his boot, breaking the centerpiece in half. He then grabbed an urn full of ashes and carelessly demolished it against her helmet, limiting her vision even further. 

“Excellent. That’s my goal, anyway.” Flipping out of the rubble, she grabbed a lit candelabra and thrashed it about, frying him again with lines of boiling wax. To make it up to her, he snapped _every single_ weapon off the circus of mounts and threw them at her, before upgrading to his prized **flail.**

_“Have you any idea how many careers I cut short with this thing back in Beacon Academy!?”_ He shouted. _“You’ve had your fun, girl. **Now,** you’re gonna swallow some teeth.” _

As Cain’s rage approached the limits, his aptitude grew. Eleanor realized, as he strangled her into a smoldering fireplace, that the longer this fight went on, the less likely she was to win. The prospect dawned on her in full once she was grappled through the floor into an antique bedroom, whereupon her face was shoved into a mirror. She smiled. 

Still on the ground but fancying fantastical footwork, she kicked him into the ceiling and quickly grabbed ahold of several huge bookcases, toppling both them and the entire upper floor onto the adversary. 

_“I’ve waited years for this moment. I made a promise. **Never** again will a Delphic enjoy the spoils of **our** civilization.” _ She grabbed his foot, dragged him out of the remains, and launched him out the window into the distant crossroads hundreds of feet below. 

Eleanor flew to meet him at the bridge that led here to begin with, amused at his struggle to stand. _“Get out of here, warrior. Now. Just leave me be.”_ He said. 

“You’ve been charged with crimes against the order of things. A Delphic is not fit to walk the path of Remnant-“ 

**_“Get out!”_** Cain’s semblance reached its conclusion. He blinked forward and whacked her with a tree she hadn’t even seen him dislodge. Once the smoke settled, she couldn’t even recall what happened in the last several seconds, confused to be laying among a fallen bell tower. 

“Enough of this! You cannot beat me. I am a Silver Eyed Warrior! It is your purpose to die by my hand!” 

**_“Silence!”_** He screamed, locking his hands around her throat before giving her mask a taste of his knuckles with every word. _“Get! Away! From! My! **House!”**_ With a final punch, he split the overpass and sent them both into the river far below. The entire way down, they traded blows, leading to a short scuffle in the water until the current forced them apart. 

Eleanor crawled onto land, her armor badly damaged and her cape practically shredded. Cain didn’t have the courtesy to give her a time-out so she could spit out all the inhaled water. He dunked her back under the creek violently. In spite of this, before she could drown, perhaps out of enmity, he pulled her back up and wrapped the chain of his flail around her neck. One breath was all Eleanor was granted before she met the walls of _ten_ houses at high velocity. 

Somehow, he was on her again the second she landed, slumped against a wall, Tormentyst barely within grasp. Cain pummeled her, kicking the sword away. _“This is fun, right? You wanted this, right? You wanted to see me angry!? Well!? You have made me **mad!”** _ With one final swing of his flail, the weapon was broken into two pieces, and Eleanor’s helmet cracked- the floor welcoming her. Shock overcame the worry of an empty Aura meter. _Now, she could only see out of her right eye._

Cain paused, looking at his old but newly busted flail with a mix of irreverence and sadness. He let it go, his hands shaking. 

Eleanor had lost. For a minute, the two only caught their breath, Cain too exhausted to even relish the victory. _No._ In a last gambit, Eleanor removed her helmet and abused the full extent of her remaining silver eye. The Domain of Trajan was lit with a hopeful, unending light, the valley incapable of withstanding such raw power. 

Cain attempted to resist, but the shockwave ate every last morsel of his Aura and pulverized him along the ruins, past the High Mansion, nothing able to stop his flight- least of all the mountains which crumbled upon his broken body. Atlas groaned. 

Eleanor sat up, holding the left side of her face. _“…Ah… Aha. Told ya. W-We got him, guys. Ow.”_ She fell back. 

A few hours of raw rest later, the sun suggested a departure by disappearing on its own. Eleanor finally limped away, dragging Tormentyst behind her. _“I warned him, guys. I could not perish yet. Not until both Xiasma is found for certain to prove my innocence, and Trajan is locked away in certainty till the twilight of man. I owe you that much, sisters. Don’t worry. Once my quest is finished, I will return. May Lady Clotho, and each of you, show mercy on me should I fall.”_

Clotho’s Coven will live on. 

Entry No. 10 complete. 

This volume may be finished, but the Archive is not. 

There is so very much work left to be done. 

The end of my expedition rests countlessly in a distant future. 


End file.
